


Of Bloody Beginnings...

by Tandirra



Series: Old Series Redux [4]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Canon Divergence - Post-Avengers (2012), Canon-Typical Violence, Developing Friendships, Friendship, Gen, Genderfluid Loki (Marvel), Implied/Referenced Torture, Loki POV, Self-Acceptance, Self-Discovery, Thor POV, Tony POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 11:36:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 27,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11988999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tandirra/pseuds/Tandirra
Summary: What happens when you take a Trickster, threaten their life, and gag them from telling their teammates? You get tricks, blood, and said Trickster being forced to realize how much matters to them.





	1. 1

Snow filtered past the windows of Stark tower, drifting across the city. Loki glanced up from his newest project, a map pinpointing the strongest arcane ley lines running throughout Midgard. It cost him a deal of travel but the sheer incompetence of other such ventures had forced his hand.  _ Not that he expected much out of Midgardians, their grasp on the subject being as weak as a child’s _ . He smirked as the window fogged white with cold, knowing the whines he’d soon hear from Thor about the weather. His brother never failed to complain about the snow whether it was ruining his training or appearing out of nowhere on a date with a pretty red-headed Asgardian girl that they  _ may _ have both fancied. Loki smiled at the memory, Thor had never been able to prove he was at fault. 

Tracing a path between Tibet and Dubai, Loki fiddled with a lock of hair, pausing as he second guessed the positioning of his mark. 

With nary a knock, the door to his quarters slid open, interrupting Loki’s work as he felt his repelling spells tap into his energies. Tony, scarf loosely wrapped around his neck, hair appropriately mussed, frowned at his fingertips. “Did the door sting me? Tell me that didn't just happen.”

Setting aside the map, Loki raised an eyebrow. “Well, that would be a  _ lie _ .”

“Yeah, and you're a bonafide virgin on that front,” Tony grumbled, massaging his gloved hand tenderly. “What a welcome for a long time no see.”

Frowning, Loki crossed his arms. “I spoke with you yesterday.”

“That was a week ago, actually.” Tony corrected him, looking slightly put out.

Loki mused on the prospect, his location jumps had sucked away his perceptions on the march of life. “I suppose it has…” Time always ran strange on Midgard, appropriate for the ever changing realm.

Leaning against the wall, Tony gestured to the snow outside with a gloved hand. “Yeah, welcome back to reality. We were planning on grabbing something fresh to eat before this storm really hits; wanna join?” Despite his casual smirk, Loki could tell Tony deeply wanted him to comply.

It seemed not an unappealing venture though Loki took a moment to save face by pretending to silently contemplate the offer, looking at Tony with a slight scowl. After an appropriate amount of time, he stood. “Yes, I surmise I can pull myself away from my work.” Rolling up the map, he mock sighed, mostly to keep his delight under proper check.

Clearly not buying it, Tony spoke sarcastically. “I’m honored. Meet us down in the lobby once you’re done mourning us wasting your precious time.” Pushing off the wall, Tony left Loki alone with a smug look and a wink which only amused Loki further.

Storing the map, Loki glanced up to the tapestry over his bed. “Remember those coordinates, would you?” A low hum sounded in his mind. Satisfied, he put the project from his thoughts.

The rest of the team was dressed similarly to Tony, with varying degrees of effort. Lowest on the spectrum was Clint, who appeared to have thrown on two different hoodies and sweatpants. Clint took notice of Loki’s inspection and shrugged. “One day you’ll understand the power of comfort.”

“If it takes looking like  _ that _ , I certainly hope not.” Though Loki had to admit, as they walked down the streets of uptown New York, Clint did look remarkably warm compared to the shivering Bruce with whom he argued.

By the time they entered the deli, the snow had begun to fall in a steady flurry. They scraped together two tables by the shop windows. Loki, squished between Thor and the window, watched the cars pass by disinterestedly. He’d been listening to Bruce and Clint debate the merits of some incomprehensible media for the last five blocks. While he understood little of it, the passion with which they argued was impressive to behold.

Their server was with them within moments, barely glancing at them as she fished for a pen. Blowing back some of her bright colored hair, she pulled out her notepad, clearly too focused to realize who she was serving. “Hey, guys, what can I start’cha off with? Coffee’s fresh.” She took their orders, glancing at each of them in succession. It wasn’t until she reached Natasha at the end of the line that she took pause. She clicked her pen and stared at her pad. A faint frown crossed her face. She stole a covert look at them and Loki saw her eyes widen before she shuffled away.

“That never ceases to be deeply gratifying,” Loki smirked. He watched the waitress mutter to her coworkers and the ensuing excited looks.

Bruce chuckled, not looking up from his phone; which he had pulled out to prove Clint wrong on a point. “You’ve got to work on your power complex. Good guy, remember?”

“Excuse me?” Loki let himself sound properly offended.

The table went quiet. Steve set down his menu. “You- you’re not a  _ bad  _ guy, not like you used to be--” he stuttered gesturing at thin air, seemingly caught off guard.

“And that limits me to being good? What does  _ ‘good’ _ even mean, truly?” Loki tented his fingers, watching the team expectantly. Rarely did their opinions of him surface. Rarely did he wish to know. Now, though, was not one of those times. Midgardian’s obsession with labeling was not an unfamiliar thing, Asgard loved it’s imposed roles like no other, but the habit irked him nevertheless. Especially since he worked so diligently to buck the role he made for himself and now they tried to set him in another. One that would never fit.

Watching him with a slight frown, Steve spoke hesitantly, “what-- so you're just…” He looked amusingly lost for words.

Loki shrugged, smirking at his uncertainty. “I’m on  _ your  _ side as of now, that I believe you can understand. Anything more… I shall tell you when I decide for myself. So, what is so wrong about appreciating a bit of recognition for our deeds now and again?” His question was met with a smattering of mumbles but nothing more. He watched them squirm in their thoughts for a moment longer. “You cannot rob me of everything that makes this existence bearable.” 

From across the table, Tony exaggeratedly bat his eyelashes and grinned. Clearly, he was doing his part to defuse tension. “Don’t worry, Antlers, I’ll always be here for you and your megalomaniacal tendencies.”

Thor voiced Loki’s first thought. “That is blatantly untrue--”

_ No, not now. _ Loki held up a hand to stop him. The mortality of the team surrounding them was not a topic he enjoyed dwelling upon. Certainly not before a meal. “Stark, while your sentiment is noted, should I ever sink to the point where  _ you  _ are the sole reason I am alive, it will already be too late.” It was a lie. But one that elicited a laugh from the rest of the team and gave him time to push away thoughts on mortality.

“Whatever you say,” Tony winked.

Before Loki could respond, their server returned, passing out their cups and staring at the table. There was a slight blush about her cheeks. “So, uh, have ya decided what ya want to eat?”

About halfway through their orders a high pitched wave of sound shattered the windows of the store.

Instantaneously, Steve kicked one of the tables up, shielding them from the broken glass but scattering their hot drinks. Their waitress screamed. In an effort to save the group from the scalding liquid, Loki swiftly froze the cups, coffee and all. Not wasting a moment longer, Loki leapt out the shattered window and onto the snow street. Thor bounded just behind him. As he ran, his armor glittered into place around him, his heavy, dark coat fluttered in the wind.

He spotted a tall figure through the snow, which rounded a street corner. Sprinting after it, Loki found himself suddenly engulfed in unnaturally thick fog. Cautiously he skidded to a halt, the snow under his boots slippery. The fog seemed to muffle all sound, he could faintly hear a car’s horn as distant as if it were a league away. Thor, who had been on his heels, was nowhere to be seen. He conjured a dagger and held it at the ready. There was no doubt in his mind that this fog was arcane in origin. “Show yourself!” No response. Not that he expected one.

There was a sound on his left and Loki turned. Nothing. A sense of dread crept into his mind and Loki tried to back out of the fog, cursing himself as he realized he’d lost his bearings. Little on Midgard could hurt him, he knew that. Yet, dread still lingered as he darted through possibilities in his mind, the fare share of enemies he’d made numbered high, but he never settled on one for more than a few moments before discarding it as unlikely.

Suddenly, there was a hissing from behind him and Loki slashed, turning with his strike in a great arc. He caught nothing but a faceful of bright pink gas that stung his lungs as he unintentionally inhaled it. Loki doubled over, coughing as his lungs burned like a fire lit from within.  It scorched his throat like inhaling smoke off a pyre and tears pricked his eyes. The phenomenon lasted for only seconds. But, by the time his fit had passed, the grey fog had disappeared into naught. Snow drifted around him harmlessly and his brother stood a block away.

Thor rushed to his side, thick red cape twisting in on itself. “Brother, are you alright? You vanished into that fog. I feared--” He grabbed Loki lightly as if for fear of a snappy retort; his eyes were full of annoyingly sincere concern. He was ever the big brother.

Brushing off Thor’s hand on his shoulder, Loki scowled, “I am just fine, Thor. Whoever did this attempted to gas me but it appeared to had no real effect.” To prove his point, Loki breathed deeply. No fire stung him. And he smiled smugly, pushing off the thoughts that sprung to his mind.  _ It could have been worse, could have been the Titan’s-- _

“That’s concerning, nevertheless.” As he spoke, Thor glanced around darkly, as if their attacker would just be waiting on the side of the road to surrender.

Loki rolled his eyes. “Quite the observation. Luckily, we are more resilient than the average Midgardian to such attacks.” Truly, an attempt on his life did not surprise. He’d survived far worse than what a Midgardian could.  _ The Titan--  _ He turned back towards the deli, “so, I presume we should  _ pay _ for that mess.” At his distaste for the prospect, Thor chuckled.

 

**00000**

 

Tony frowned at Loki as he sat, syringe in his arm, on a table. The god had been adamant that nothing was wrong but Tony wasn’t ready to take any chances. The ease of which Loki handled an attempted attack on his life was eerie. Tony dared not ask if it was the first time, though he could make a pretty educated guess.

Though guilt tripping Loki into cooperating had taken the rest of the day and one or two bribes that he’d probably regret in a week or two. “I know you don’t think this is necessary but I gotta cover our bases and check. Just in case.” The machine extracting Loki’s blood dinged and Tony popped the vial out. He swirled the dark red liquid inside.

“You fret like a hen,” Loki mumbled, rolling down his dark sleeve. 

Transferring the vial to the rest of his equipment, Tony moved to sit next to Loki. He ignored the god’s glare. Both of them knew well enough that Loki only pretended to be angry half the time.  “You might be a stubborn jerkass but you’re  _ my  _ stubborn jerkass, Loki.”

Loki snorted but quickly dropped his head so that his hair covered his face before responding. “Thor may fight you over that claim… Which would be, admittedly, amusing to witness. But, the feeling is mutual.” His words sparked warmth in Tony’s chest. 

They shared a silent moment. Tony couldn’t remember the last time he’d just taken a second to breathe. With constantly fixing his suits, the whole Avenging business, and his hundred other projects for the team he’d barely had any brain power left to spare. And yet, the quiet was relaxing. Laughter bubbled suddenly surprising even him, “you tried to kill me, like, only a few years ago.” The idea seemed vaguely absurd. He continued laughing. It felt a world away, a lifetime and a half. 

Loki stared, cocking his head in obvious confusion. “Yes? What’s funny about that?”

Practically giggling, Tony shook his head. “You!” Who had been a threatening, weirdly spiky, murderous maniac now sat next to him with a small smile, perplexed and cautious as it was. Though he knew Loki would never admit it, the god had grown attached. He caught glimpses of a Loki without the barriers that the god so carefully maintained. He saw it during late night movie sessions as they argued over what to watch next; he saw it on the Quinjet after particularly rough fights. He’d seen it just now. Loki never used the big “ _ F _ ” word ( _ few of them did, too much baggage to deal with being than teammates, “friends” was too scary, too personal _ ), but he didn’t have to, his turn around let Tony know it easy enough.

Clearly unsure whether to be insulted or not, Loki stood. “Are you quite done?” He bristled defensively.

“Yeah, yeah.” Tony took a deep breath, still smiling. “I wasn’t laughing at you.”  _ Mostly true, he was laughing at the past Loki who’d rather have ripped his face off than sit here. _ Tony knew Loki didn’t like bringing up the recent past and Tony wasn’t about to ruin the mood by digging that old knife up any more. He wanted to leave that behind just as much.

Loki said nothing. Obviously, he didn’t believe Tony.

“C’mon, that stuff will be going overnight.” Tony pointed back to his equipement. Lightbulb going off in his head, Tony grinned. He knew how to get off this track to a far less dangerous topic. “You wanna see something I’ve been working on?” He didn’t wait for Loki’s response as he dug through his many work drawers. Though he did hear unenthusiastic mumbling from the god. Pulling out the barebones repulsor, he checked for loose wiring and held it out. “Put it on.”

“Is that a jest?” Loki hesitantly took the thing, frowning.

“Nah, it’s like a one size fits all thing.” He waited, bouncing on his heels, for Loki to slip the prototype on. “Say we need to stun the baddies instead of kill them? That’ll do it. It uses really high pitched frequencies to disable anyone. And I mean  _ anyone _ . No need to worry about using too much or too little force with that baby. Just point and shoot. And I’m working on making it inconspicuous enough to carry around whenever.” As he explained, Tony beamed. As much fun as lasers and rockets were, some non-lethal weaponry to add to his arsenal would fill a much needed hole.

Loki looked skeptical. “I have plenty of ways to disable people, Tony. Arguably Asgard’s greatest sorcerer, among the cleverest of gods, Trickster; remember?” There was a twinkle of mischief in his blue-green eyes. “I could knock you out right now without lifting a finger.”

“Let’s not get carried away.” Tony knew full well that Loki could and likely would, just to prove his point. But Tony’d rather avoid the head trauma. “And you’re a fancy magic alien but I’m not, neither is Nat, or Clint, or Bruce for that matter. We normies gotta have something.”

“I certainly wouldn’t classify any of  _ you _ in such a constricting category, but I understand your point. What does that have to do with  _ me  _ wearing this and not one of them?” Loki began to slip the repulsor off nonchalantly.

Before he could, Tony grabbed his wrist. Tony saw Loki raise his eyebrows in surprise.“I need someone other than me to try it and you’re not telling me  _ no _ , so...” Tony switched on a speaker system that would record the repulsor’s output. He pointed towards it and hopped out of the way. “Give it a go.” Realizing Loki might not know how to fire the repulsor, Tony stepped towards him. “Here, you just--”

The prototype fired and Tony ducked, narrowly avoiding the full register of the sound wave. He felt the screech rattle through him. As the speaker absorbed the sound, the feedback sounded like nails on a chalkboard. Very beautiful nails on a chalkboard, the sound of success, but nevertheless the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

“An interesting concept, I admit.” Loki, newly interested, inspected the glove.

Recovering, Tony grinned. He soaked in Loki’s lukewarm praise, knowing full well Loki meant more than he let on. “I don’t make boring things. I’m Tony Stark, remember? Everything I touch is automatically five times cooler than it was before.”

Loki laughed like a bird. “Is that so?”

“You better goddamn believe.”


	2. Chapter 2

Fire.  _ Fire _ . His body was burning. Loki awoke with a start from nightmares where flames licked at his body and bubbled his skin.

He awoke to the nightmare made real. Scrabbling at his sheets, Loki struggled to breathe. His very blood felt as if it was boiling in his veins. His lungs shriveled from the flames as he coughed up nothing. An overwhelming sweetness filled his mouth, sickly and flowery to the point of nausea. The room was dark, impossibly so. Or had his eyes failed him? He attempted to weave a spell but it sparked and died at his fingertips, doubling the fire within him. _ Poison, he knew poison, this had to be--  _ “Jarvis!”  _ He was dying, he was-- _

“That A.I. can’t hear you.” It was a voice Loki didn’t recognize as his teammates, rough, old but oddly light. Something about it seemed strangely familiar as Loki’s stomach lurched and he felt bile rise in his throat.

He struggled to stand despite his body’s deep desire to crumple in on itself. “Coward! Reveal yourself. Wha--” He bit his tongue as a spasm ran through him. His body burned with this fiery poison. Blood filled his mouth. The taste could not overpower the sticky sweetness that cloyed on his tongue. “What have you done to me?” Unbidden, his mind leapt to the Titan and his dogs.  _ No, no, it couldn’t be. He would not be alive now if it were. _

“I’m not going to just  _ tell  _ you that. You, of all people, should appreciate the effect of dramatic timing.” The voice seemed almost amused. 

Loki searched through the dark for the voice’s owner. But to no avail, the combined effort of standing upright and the darkness surrounded him rendered his attempts near useless. It had to be his assailant from earlier. But how they’d gotten through the tirelessly observant security of the tower unsettled him, there were few who could do that and fewer that could get past his spells. “Are you with those sorcerers?” 

The voice laughed, “the Masters of the Mystic Arts?  _ Ha _ , what a bunch of hacks.” The voice was so casual, as if he wasn’t dying in front of it. “No, I’m offering things of far greater importance than any of their brood could. Including saving you.” The self importance of the voice would’ve turned Loki’s insides had they not already been aflame.

Standing upright becoming too taxing an effort, Loki braced himself against his bed. Despite his knee-jerk desire to lash out, Loki knew the voice was right. His body was destroying itself from the inside in an attempt to purge itself of whatever poison ran through him. Every beat of his heart thudded in his ears like a wardrum, sending shocks of pain through him. He could barely keep his eyes open. For all the good that it did him, he could see nothing but blackness. Half of him expected to hear unwanted whispers in the dark. Yet, there was nothing but the very real voice that rustled unnatural cobwebs in the back of his mind. “And what… important things do you speak of?” He managed to stay, though his tongue fought the words.

“I offer a proposition. I can take that pain you feel away for a short time. Saving your life in the process. All  _ you  _ need to do in return is give me a little of what you’re good at.”

“W-what?” Another spasm wracked him. Loki glared at the ground, he knew full well what the voice meant but didn’t wish it that satisfaction.

“You’re the God of Mischief, aren’t you? Or tricks, or lies. Whichever you prefer. Just get back to your roots, cause a little chaos. Be the bad guy, so to speak. I promise it’s what you’re best at.”

“I am not-- I do not-- And if I refuse?”

There was a short pause. “Then you die.”

The response was short, simple. Loki could tell the voice was either ready to accept that outcome or knew it wouldn’t come to pass. It should have been an easy answer; death over such an enslavement. _ Should _ have,  _ would  _ have. Fate seemed him eternally marked for this encounter, no matter how hard he pushed back. But he was sick of what fate had decided. He wanted his own decision if he could make it. 

A tear rolled down his face, part of him was surprised it didn’t sizzle on his skin. His body rebelled against the poison pulsing through him. Every breath felt like a razor scraped down his throat. Each beat of his heart pumped more toxin through him and he could feel the strain of the action mounting. Bile pushed higher and higher in his throat, only doing more to burn him. He was engulfed in endless darkness. But he didn’t want to die. It was selfish, childish. One big spit in the face to the Norn’s design. He was done acting his part, he owed life nothing for continuing his existence. 

“What did you have in mind,” Loki hissed, wiping the tears from his face. His movements were stiff and ached deep within his bones.

“He speaks again!” Loki heard a distant clap of hands. “The choice is yours, be creative.” The voice paused, “you know, you cannot tell your “ _ friends”  _ about this. I will know if you do, don’t doubt that. And then you can choke on that pain you feel, I won’t be there to stop it. And trust me, neither of us want that.” 

Swaying, Loki felt close to toppling. “I don’t doubt it.” It was true. Loki could find hint of no lies from the voice. The fact wouldn’t stop him from trying. Whoever this was, they couldn’t imagine what they were playing with. Loki would make sure of that. His tormentor would not win this.

 

**00000**

 

Glancing up at the large, round, intricately patterned window that denoted the New York division of the sorcerers, Loki pushed the wide doors open. He stepped inside, footsteps echoing on the polished floor. Fluffing his white fur coat, Loki whistled a tune, infuriatingly stuck in his head from a time that he had heard Clint listening to weeks ago.

The sanctum’s protector rushed from out of sight to the top of the stairs. He stopped in his tracks at the sight of Loki at the doorstep. A second of tense silence passed.

Laughing humorlessly, Loki took a step forward. He slipped effortlessly into this role. _ It was his, after all, _ hissed a sickly sweet voice in his head. “I need to speak with one of your… superiors.” His tormentor had said he had nothing to do with them, but Loki would check nevertheless. There was no better place to sift for clues than here.

The guardian shifted nervously. “Why?” Last time Loki had visited this place, a good fifty years prior, he had ended up dropping half its inhabitants into their mirror dimension without the rings they used. The only reason they weren’t still there was Thor’s interference. It had earned Loki a five hundred year ban from any of the Order’s premises. Something he’d kept to, the place was packed with pompous, self important sorcerers and left a bad taste in his mouth. But there was a worse, far sweeter, taste to propel him back here now.

“Someone has threatened me and it might be one of your lot; someone must be held accountable for it.” Loki took another few steps. Out of the corner of his eye he saw two more guardians step into view.  _ Good. He desired an audience. _

“You’re breaking our--”

“Fine, then we’ll speak,” he ascended the first few steps of the staircase separating them. “You know anyone that’s gone rogue lately? Ring any bells?” He rose slowly and deliberately putting one foot after the other and clicking his boots against the polished stone floor. “Do you know what they asked me to do?” Slowly, he slipped menace into his voice.

He could see the guardians sweating. “We can’t talk about our members to outsiders. Past or otherwise.”

“Then I’ll do the talking.” Another step. Another two. “What happens when you gather the greatest library of magically dedicated books on Midgard, guarded by a bunch of monks with no drive to fight, and then add a wildcard, someone dissatisfied with the pacifist approach? You get stolen books and a person with the base knowledge to learn from them enough to wreak whatever havoc they want. Sound familiar?”

“Uh- well… we can’t--” The protector stammered.

“Not enough to jog your memory?” Loki bared down on the guardian, seething. “Likely had an interest in poisons?” 

He saw the man flinch. “He’s not ours-- I --”

“Him? So you do have a clue.” Loki could smell the man’s unpleasant breath. “A name would be  _ lovely _ .”

The guardian seemed to steel himself. He raised his chin. “I’m sorry. We can’t give you--”

Loki grabbed the man’s arm, green energy dancing around his hand and searing into the man’s skin; he conjured a blade which he held to the man’s wrist. “You want to keep your hand? Tell me his name.” He saw the other two guardians pull spears of refracted light. Bending in close, Loki pushed the blade against the man’s wrist. A thin trickle of blood dripped to the floor. “This could have been your throat.” He purred with menace.

“Fine,  _ fine! _ ” The man’s voice broke and he gulped, “I know who you’re talking about!”

Baring his teeth, Loki released the guardian. “Isn’t that so much easier?”

After he finished imparting all he knew, the guardian collapsed to the ground, clutching at his singed sleeve and burned arm. Loki felt no sympathy for him, he could have done far worse. Nearly wanted to.

Winking at the two who still stood, Loki leapt down the stairs, landing lightly and taking a bow. “Oh, just a reminder where were we stand. Even though he isn’t one of yours.” Pointing to the marble ceiling, Loki loosed an arc of the same green energy he used to burn the guardian. It wove itself into words upon the stone, hissing and sizzling away the polish.  _ ‘Keep your ilk in check.’ _ Smiling at his handiwork, Loki swung his way out of the building. He whistled the same tune.

 

Waiting for his tormentor to return proved itself to be just as unbearable as the pain he knew was coming. As Loki worked spells to discreetly capture their conversation, he could taste the artificial sweetness begin to overwhelm his senses. Along with it came the fiery pain. Starting with a feverish feeling that left him exhausted. It quickly grew as the night dragged on. Turning every movement into an ordeal, every minute into five. His breathing grew ragged as he tried to minimize the spikes that drove through his lungs and tried not to cough despite how his body begged him to.

Finally, the room was plunged into unnatural darkness. But not before Loki caught the gleam off his tormentors dark boots. Loki smiled as he felt his spells activate; the movement sent tiny spasms through his body.

The voice spoke, “what did they tell you?” There was definite anger in it.

“ _ Luke  _ is not a very intimidating name. I can see why you went for the faceless approach. Far more effective than being threatened by some boring mortal. Pl--” Loki flinched and dug his nails into the arms of his chair as fiery pain raced through him. He struggled to regain his smug tone. “Please tell me you thought up some cute new name for yourself. One to strike fear in my heart?” There was no reply at first and Loki silently wondered if he’d pushed his luck too far. It wouldn’t be the first time but it might be the last.

After an excruciatingly long pause the voice responded gleefully “Ooh, you are resourceful aren’t you? And the mockery, delightful.”

His relief at the answer was marred by confusion.“I-- who are you?” Loki squirmed in his skin. His veins burned like molten gold. His muscles seared and cramped. He had expected outrage and received none, surprise did nothing to nullify the poison tearing him apart. He knew how to pick apart everyone’s insecurities; why had this failed?

“And I assume you accomplished your half of our nice little bargain if you had the time to go snooping in places you shouldn’t?” The voice sounded more like it was patronizing him than anything. It clearly had no thoughts on answering his query.

“I’m not an invalid,” he spit a bit defensively. “You’ll find out when it makes itself known.”

“How can I know you’re telling the truth?”

Loki mustered the will to laugh, paying for it as his body screamed. Nevertheless he pushed on. At the very least, he had his wit. “Would I lie?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> setting up a character who's both an oc and not an oc at the same time was a fun challenge, especially when I want their identity to be discoverable. seriously hope it hasn't been made too easy


	3. Chapter 3

 It was late into the morning by the time Loki felt well enough to move. He felt dirty and was unsure whether it was his imagination or whatever ran through his veins compelling the sense. He guessed a bit of both. The snowstorm still pounded down upon the city, nearly whiting out the windows of Stark Tower. Not wishing to be in his room anymore he appeared on the balcony of the tower and took some time to think, staring out at the city. Snow fell around him and caught in his hair. The bitter wind stung him. He tasted the barest hint of sickly sweetness on his tongue.

He caught a handful of snowflakes and watched them melt into nothingness. They cooled his feverish skin, if only for a moment. It was only a matter of time before his actions were discovered. In the past, the waiting game had been a fun bit of anticipation before the inevitable backlash. Now, though, he was no more willing to wait it out than he was to make his involvement known. But he would play the game, it was one of the few he knew how to dance along to, after all. And no matter how skilled Luke was in the dance, Loki was better. He had to be.

It was the team’s reaction that worried him. Frightened him, even though he’d never admit it. He wished he could just leave them out of it. Though he was assuring they would find the truth through his machinations, the ugly confrontation yet to come haunted his thoughts.

“Hey, you’ll catch your death out here.” Steve’s voice floated in from the right. “Or a cold, I don’t know.” Loki turned to see him leaning against the doorway to inside, arms crossed. Short blonde hair rustled by the wind. Brown leather jacket a stark contrast to the utter blankness of the snowstorm. “Can you or Thor even get colds?” Steve seemed to ponder the idea for a moment.

Loki didn’t move from his spot. “Can you?” The soldier wasn’t unwelcome, but Loki wasn’t in the mood to be social. Obviously, the cold wouldn’t stop the ever stubborn Captain and Loki knew it.

Giving in and stepping into the cold, Steve shrugged. Unsurprisingly he was selfless as ever. In more than his startling blondness, Steve reminded Loki of Thor. That was not always a compliment. In more than just his startling blondeness Steve reminded Loki of Thor. It was not always a compliment. “Not sure.” He visibly shivered as he stopped next to Loki. “Used to be the king of colds. They turned into pneumonia, scarlet fever, you name it. Drove mom and Bucky trying to remind me to wrap up in the winter.”

“Mmm…” Loki glanced at Steve, who wore a soft, bittersweet smile. Though he understood little of what Steve had said, the sentiment was clear. _Perhaps Loki had been wrong about wishing for alone time._ Taking a deep breath, Loki pushed out words, “Steven, I want to ask you something.”

Looking slightly surprised, Steve broke his nostalgia. “I’m all ears.” Loki knew full well that he rarely called the soldier, or anyone but Tony, by their first names. And he knew that Steve noticed.

“Do you consider me selfish?” It had been an idea nagging him incessantly. Though he had his doubts at to what insight the shining, golden boy of America could impart to him. Had he not already seen cracks in that mask to the imperfections underneath, Loki wouldn’t have asked at all.

Steve frowned at him, teeth chattering. “You want my honest opinion?”

“You are incapable of telling me a lie I cannot see through,” Loki said bluntly.

Laughing nervously, Steve took a moment to formulate a response. “Is this about what we said the other day? Look, we all have different perceptions of ourselves.” When Loki didn't move, he sighed, “but, most of the time, yes. Yes, you are pretty selfish. That doesn’t make you inherently bad, Tony is selfish too but I trust him to have my back. The thing is, Loki, we make our own path. You choose to act for what’s right or not. Everyone has that choice. I think you’re starting to make the right choices too, or… figuring out what choices those are.” Steve shivered, sticking his hands in his pockets.

“Spoken like a true Midgardian. You are right, of course. About yourself. Gods… that’s not quite how it works.” Loki stared down at the streets below. Midgardians weren’t the only ones who loved labels. Though gods took the subject differently, a bit more literally.

He saw Steve frown out of the corner of his eye. “What? No, everyone has a choice. God or not.”

Loki paused. “Your conviction is admirable. I hope you’re right, Rogers.”

Shuddering, Steve broke his thoughtful demeanor. “It’s so cold, I gotta go inside.”

Loki waved him on. “You do that.”

“Don’t stay out here by yourself.”

“I’m a god, Rogers. I can take a bit of chill.” He saw Steve’s frown deepen. _Perfect_. Even if he couldn’t say something was wrong the team could come to that conclusion on their own, with a bit of prodding. His helpers, the suspicion, they would all coalesce in time. There was a noose tightening around his neck and it tasted sickly sweet but he’d be damned if he wouldn’t joyfully slip that noose around his tormentor as well.

**00000**

Tony scratched his chin absentmindedly. He flipped the prototype over and searched for the loose screw that rattled as he shook it. Spotting the culprit, he held his hand out. “Dum-E, flathead please.” He motioned impatiently as the arm whirred. “I know you know where it is.” What handed him the screwdriver was far too warm to be Dum-E’s claw. Tony looked up to see Steve standing over him. “Thanks?”

“We’ve got a problem.” Steve took a seat on the stool opposite Tony. His face was grim. Tony groaned internally.

Tightening the screw, Tony carefully avoided Steve’s gaze. The last thing he needed right now was another distraction. “I’m guessing it doesn’t have to do with getting this thing on a consistent frequency?” He raised the glove and heard something rattle inside it. “Really?!” Annoyed, he began to search again.

“What? N-no,” Steve said, perturbed. “I think something is wrong with Loki.”

“When is something not?” Continuing his dissection, Tony ignored the idea that Steve had planted in his mind. _If something was up, he’d be the first to know,_ he told himself firmly.

Steve was undeterred. “I talked to Nat. She agrees.”

Sighing, Tony set down the glove and kicked his stool back, balancing precariously. “And she’s the expert? C’mon Rogers, don’t you think I’d know if there was an issue?”

“You sure you don’t? What did those blood tests find? The ones you were so insistent on getting?”

Tony shook his head. “Nothing I could see. I put ‘em on ice. Never know when god blood might come in handy.” He saw Steve grimace. “It might! Maybe it's got the cure for cancer, or long life, or male pattern baldness; Thor and Loki have pretty good hair.”

“That raises a lot of ethical questions.”

“Eh, most scientific breakthroughs are not exactly ethically minded. Sometimes you just gotta innovate.” He sighed at Steve’s disapproving frown and raised his hands defensively. “Kidding! You know me better than that.”

“Sure,” Steve didn’t try to hide his sarcasm but moments later settled into seriousness again. “But you’re changing the subject. When was the last time you spoke to him?”

“That night, after the attack. But I’ve been working in here pretty consistently. It’s not like I expect him to talk with me every day; I realized that was a lost cause a while ago.” It was a fact that made him slightly bitter to admit.

“Yeah, well, last time I had a conversation with him was an hour ago and he was standing out on your balcony. As far as I know he still is.” While he spoke, Steve took out his phone and began typing.

Tony leaned forward, surprised. “It’s like, in the tens out there. Why would…”

Steve shrugged. “I asked him to come inside, he wouldn’t. The least weird reason I can think of is because he’s an…” Steve gestured towards his face. “An ice whatever. Maybe he--”

“No, that’s not- no.” It was an easy suggestion to shoot down. “Even if it felt good to be outside in this weather, he wouldn’t do that. Dude has serious issues when it comes to that whole thing. Pretty sure he’d rather make himself miserable over it than anything else.” Tony frowned. “You know the time travel incident,” He said, waiting for Steve to nod. “First place it took us was where he was born. And…” Hesitating, Tony questioned whether he should share the memory. “And I’m pretty sure he was ready to go ahead and finish off baby him. Might have, if I wasn’t there.”

Silent for a long moment, Steve whistled low and ran a hand through his hair. “That whole mess is confusing.”

“Tell me about it.” Finding it suddenly harder to ignore the pit of worry burrowing into him, Tony sighed. “Not even Thor will talk about it much. And he’s downright gossipy on the subject compared to Loki. I’d love to actually get someone willing to chat about it.”

Steve’s phone buzzed and they both looked to it. “Nat says he’s still out there.”

“Ugh, seriously?” Tony stood, rubbing his forehead. After their last conversation, Tony had hoped Loki might be more comfortable reaching out to him for help. That Loki would have realized what Tony said, he meant. “What did he say to you?”

“Asked me whether or not I found him selfish. It was… an unusual amount of self reflection.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. Steve was right; no way Loki would ask something like that on a normal day. “I could try talking to--”

The sudden buzzing of both his and Steve’s phones interrupted him. Steve was the first to read the message and a shadow passed over his face. “We need to get to S.H.I.E.L.D.”

The ride to S.H.I.E.L.D.’s New York headquarters was short, though no less noisy than usual. Tony was careful to keep his covert glances towards Loki to a minimum. He watched the god rib Thor over something insignificant, an easy smile on his face. Perhaps too easy. Maybe it was just paranoia, but Tony swore Loki looked paler than usual.

No different was the cramped elevator ride up to Fury’s office. Noticing clumps of snow stuck to Loki’s shoulders, Tony made to brush them off. He opened his mouth to comment on it but before he could, Loki caught his hand and pulled him upwards in a single sweeping motion. In the process Tony felt his shoulder nearly pop out of its socket and saw Thor narrowly avoid an elbow to the face. “Ow! Hey!” Even as he recovered, still standing on his toes, Tony felt the heat radiating off Loki’s skin.

Releasing him, Loki brushed the snow away and glared. “Watch yourself, Stark, that could have been far worse.”

Staring at Loki, Tony massaged his shoulder. “You’re hot.”

Clint practically choked on his coffee.

He saw Loki blink rapidly, obviously taken aback. Then a sly smile flashed across Loki’s face. “I’m glad you’ve finally admitted that to yourself, Tony. But that’s not exactly new information to me.”

Ignoring Loki’s smugness, Tony continued to frown as Clint coughed violently and Natasha smacked him on the back. There was no better time to confront him then when he was surrounded. “No-- I mean, yeah sure-- but no; you’re _warm_. Are you sick?”

As the words left Tony’s mouth, Thor reached for Loki, who swatted him away and snapped, “you touch me, I’ll chop off your hand!” Going silent under everyone’s combined gaze, Loki regained his composure. “I’m fine. A bit of a fever has never slowed me before and it certainly isn’t now.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” The longer Tony looked at Loki, the more he noticed the shadows beneath Loki’s eyes and the waxiness of Loki’s skin. The hard line of his scowl.

Shrugging the question away, Loki carefully avoided looking at him. “Because it’s a matter of no importance? You wish for me to inform you each and every time I cough? Or, perhaps you’d like a detailed memoir of my day?”

Rolling his eyes, Tony couldn’t resist the urge to argue. “Maybe if you stopped trying to push away the people that care about you I wouldn't have to assume that you’re hiding something! Smartass, when are you going to figure that out? We’re not the enemy, not anymore!”

Loki’s glare bore through Tony; his eyes were icy cold. “You have no idea the matters you speak of.”

“ _Ooh_ , please enlighten us,” Tony said, waving his hands sarcastically.

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open, saving Loki from weaving whatever bullshit tale he planned to come up with.

Fury stood by the windows, face grim. He pointed to the screen on his desks as they entered the room. “Can someone explain to me what exactly is happening here?”

Turning to the screen, Tony and the rest watched as S.H.I.E.L.D. agents interrogated a shallow cheeked man, who audibly babbled. The agents continued their questioning but the man fluttered his hands, ramblings dying away as he lay his head on the desk.

Unsettled, Tony looked back to the Director. “Er-- what are we supposed to be explaining, exactly?”

“Yesterday, we stopped receiving radio coordinates from one of our cargo ships. We searched for it and didn’t find squat. Until at about three this morning, when suddenly her entire crew washed up in Maine. They’re all like that, by the way.” Fury jerked his head back to the screen with the babbling man. “Can’t get more than two or three straight words out of them. And the cargo ship itself: dropped off the map. We’ve got people scouring the globe for any signs of it, but I have a sneaking suspicion we’re not getting it back.”

Steve crossed his arms. “What was on the ship? Anything we should be worried about?”

“It’s classified.”

“Typical,” Tony snorted. “And how are we supposed to help?”

Fury switched off the monitor. “You’re the self proclaimed super-genius, Stark. A fact you never let me forget. Have any ideas,” he asked, crossing his arms.

“I’m not Sherlock Holmes.” Tony rolled his eyes. “You gotta give us more than--”

“Still your tongue.” Holding up a hand, Loki stepped out from behind Thor. He still seemed sour. “I have some speculations to pose. This seems more my area of expertise, anyway. I’m insulted, Director, that you seem to have failed to recall.” His eyes glinted darkly.

It wasn’t a look Tony liked to see.

Fury stared him down. “I haven’t forgotten. Ignoring you, maybe.”

A not-so-friendly grin split Loki’s face. “Ah, we do have fun, don’t we!” He clapped his hands together. “Now, back to the matter at hand. Clearly, this mystery is magical in origin. And, we did run into a figure just the other day who seemed to possess the aptitude for such abilities. It seems as likely an avenue as any and I would suggest looking into that.”

Moving back to his desk, Fury jotted something down. “That’s all you’ve got to give us?”

Loki shrugged. “Spells leave behind traces. I’m sure you and your scientists can find them if you look hard enough. As for your vessel--” The god glanced back to the team. He seemed to be enjoying this a bit too much. “Should anyone be able to locate it, we would be the ones.”

“Usually your enthusiasm would inspire confidence but-”

“But it’s me?” Loki’s smile never faltered.

“Yes.”

Cocking his head, Loki held up his hands and stepped back. “I must fill a role, Director. And this one I fill I will play to the best of my considerable abilities. As long as you do the same, this situation may be salvageable yet…” Loki trailed off. It sounded more like he was muttering to himself as he took his place beside Thor, “all of it.”

Either ignoring or not hearing Loki’s murmurs, Fury continued “You do that and I’ll look into that tip. See if we can’t rustle something up.” Sitting at his desk, Fury waved them away. “Now, get out of here. I’ve got a maniac to find.”


	4. Chapter 4

After dinner, as the team split off, Loki singled out Thor and Tony. He kept his voice low, glancing between them. “If you would, I desire your audience. My room. Half an hour.” Before either of them could respond, he swept away.

The wait was a short one. He beckoned them inside and towards a pair of dark oak chairs.

“Brother, I know you well enough to be sure of one thing: whatever it is you have to say, it is not good.” Thor’s voice was stormy.

Taking a seat on the edge of his bed, Loki leaned back. “Ye of little faith.”

“Oh, I wonder why?” Tony was still clearly unhappy with him.

Unfortunate. Making amends had not been top of his list. But, then, he had always been rather adept at multitasking. “Firstly, I must apologize for my outburst this morning. ‘Twas unwarranted. This fever may be making me more irritable then I would care to admit.”

Tony rocked forward in his chair. “You finally gonna let my clock your temperature?” Loki resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“If that would please you into silence so that I could finish, yes.” The horizon outside had already begun to darken. Artificial sweetness had commenced its steady coup of his senses.

“Great,” Tony looked up, “Jarvis, gimme a scope on Antler’s internal temp.”

“According to my basic biometric scan, he is holding at approximately ten degrees above his average readings.” 

Judging by Tony’s grimace, Loki assumed such numbers were not encouraging. “I should ask why you have Jarvis equipped with technology of that sort. But I shall settle for a translation, your metrics are not the ones I am overly familiar with.” He, of course, did not need an explanation for how he felt. Burning was self explanatory and he knew his body’s pain better than any machine.

Watching Loki with more concern, his anger seeming to have mostly evaporated, Tony struggled for an analogy. “Er-- imagine sticking your hand on asphalt that’s been baking in the sun- wait, you don’t have that… It’s- it’s just not good, not healthy. Let’s just leave it at that.”

“Methinks I shall live.” It wasn’t the fever that frightened him, only what it meant underneath. In an attempt to steer the meeting back on topic, Loki cleared his throat. “Now, Thor, you know where you must go to ask for wayward sorcerers.”

“Aye.” Thor frowned at his pronoun choice. “Will you not be accompanying me?”

Loki summoned a knowing smile. “Surely you haven’t forgotten that I am banned from their buildings? You alone shall get more out of them; were I to tag along I would just cause trouble.” He chuckled and knew it sounded real, “as I am wont to do.”

“Mmm, you heard it not from my mouth.” Though it was clear Thor still had his reservations. “But that cannot be what you summoned us to speak on.”

“Astute assumption. Since when could you predict me? You are not some imposter toting my brother’s visage, now, are you?” Doing his best to lighten the mood before he would inevitably ruin it, Loki saw Thor smile. The sight inspired meager little comfort and more than a slight envy.

“I could summon Mjolnir and settle that for you.”

“Don’t break my tower,” Tony’s response was automatic in a way only formed by experience. 

It made Loki’s smile genuine. “Ah, no need, you boast at the first given chance; you could only be mine dearest brother. Perhaps it has come to pass you’ve had some cleverness beaten into you by this life upon Midgard.”

Thor pointed an accusatory finger, but his voice was good natured, “or perhaps you have grown more predictable.”

“Gah, that is a nightmare scenario.” Loki’s smile slipped.  _ Here he went, ruining everything again. _ “And speaking of nightmares…” He watched their smiles fade as well. “Thor, we’ve discussed what happens if I decide, for whatever reason, this team is not worth my time. If I fall back into… into my old role.”

“Aye,” it was not a question but Thor chose to answer it as such.

“Yes… and you are at peace with the outcome that would arise with that possibility?”

“I-- yes.” There was clear reluctance in Thor’s answer. Loki decided to ignore it.

“Good.” Loki winced as a dull ache ran through him. The poison was taking ahold of him again. There was sorrow on Thor’s face and cautious confusion on Tony’s. Sucking in a quick breath, Loki spoke so quickly he near lost track of his own thoughts as they spilled out. “Throw it all out the window. Every careful plan, ever last fatal solution to every possible betrayal. Thor, this may be the most selfish I’ve ever been but--”

“Loki--”

“Don’t give up on me.  _ Please _ . Take that big heart of yours and don’t let me consign myself to the role fate gave me.” Loki couldn’t hold Thor’s gaze. He stared resolutely at his hands in his lap.  _ Why was he telling Thor this? He should be careful, he-- _

He heard the creaking of Thor’s chair. Moment later, Thor embraced him. Awkwardly wrapping his arms around Loki's neck. “You really think I could do anything but? You’re my  _ brother _ .”

“Get off me, you oaf…” Loki’s protests were no more than half hearted mumbles. He shuddered, his veins began to burn.  _ He shouldn't have-- this wasn't how this was supposed to go _ . “Brother, I don’t want to die,” he croaked and winced at the sound. A part of him hoped Thor hadn’t heard his words.

Though the way Thor tightened his hug told Loki he surely had. “I am Thor Odinson, God of Thunder, wielder of the mighty Mjolnir; I will not let that happen. I swear on my life.” The heat of Thor’s arms around him seemed to counter the poison’s own. Warm, soft, nothing like the fiery pins stabbing his very lungs. Loki struggled to hold onto the feeling, cursing himself for the sentiment as he did.

“There you go again. Talking about yourself. And you call me predictable,” Loki laughed weakly.

“Brother, why do you say these things? What has happened?” Thor held him now at arms length, forcing Loki to look him in the eye.

Not that a bit of eye contact could coax the truth. “I’d hazard a guess that fever Stark so insists upon checking may be to blame. Perhaps my thoughts make less sense then they should. Discredit it, brother. I shall be back to antagonizing you in the morrow.” He pushed off Thor and allowed himself to fall back on his bed. He did not have to stretch that far to act sick, he was, after all.

“I shan’t hold you to that.” Thor clearly wasn’t sure what to make of him. Backing away, Thor continued to speak softly. “Brother, I wish to speak on this further… when you are well. That, I promise as well.”

Unsure whether the tightness in his chest had to do with the poison or Thor’s words, Loki waved his brother away. “Verily, and you always keep your word. I know.”

“Er-- not to interrupt this touching family bonding moment,”  Tony piped up from where he still sat. “But what am I doing here exactly?”

Groaning, Loki forced himself up. It wouldn’t be long before he could no longer conceal the full depth of his discomfort. He ignored Thor as his brother slipped out of the room. A part of him regretted losing his composure as he had. It may do more to hurt than help him. Not that he was any stranger to trauma.

Tony stared at him expectantly. “Am I just here for eyecandy or what?”

Faking uncertainty, Loki frowned. “It has slipped my mind…”

“Great. Y’know, normally I’d suggest like… an icebath or something for that fever except I know you’re not going to listen to me, so why bother. But if your memory gets patchier I just might force my hand.”

The idea inspired nausea. Though the poison was also a likely suspect for the feeling. It was a harsh reminder that he was running out of time. Glancing behind him, Loki added a slight lilt to his voice. “Mmmh… Tony, do you know what that is?” The tapestry above his bed was of thick weave. A snake of wool wove itself around the tapestry’s edge. A forest of bare branches trees intersected at its center. Loki could easily pinpoint eyes among them but doubted Tony could yet do the same.

Tony gave it a short inspection. “Something magical, I’m sure.”

“Well yes, why would I waste my time with anything but?” All he needed was to ensure Tony remembered the item. When the time came, Tony would be smart enough to come up with the necessary solution. While there were few ways to assure remembrance, Loki knew them all. “Use your brain, Stark, I’m told you’re rather good at that.”

“Secret’s out.” Tony rolled his eyes and took another look at the tapestry. “Given its owner, I’m guessing some Norse thing? Last time I looked up those old myths was when you and Thor first decided to throw down on Earth.”

“Excuse you, this  _ old myth _ would appreciate a bit of respect,” Loki scoffed, ignoring how his vision began to fuzz. “Norns know I’ve earned little from the classical retellings.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Umm.” Tony hesitated. “There’s a snake-- not the acid in the eyes incident?”

Loki shuddered at the thought. “Do not remind me of that. Guess again.”

“Wait, that actually happened? I’m starting to wonder why it took you as long as it did to go nutso.”

More than slightly bitter, Loki laughed shortly. His body ached of fire and his eyes stung, spurred on by the unpleasant memory.

“Okay, ignoring that probably traumatic shit… Snake… your kid--” Tony’s eyes widened. “ _ Oh no, _ I do not want to talk about this!” Tony shifted almost instantaneously into distress.

Which had been the goal. Few things were as memorable as those you wish to forget. “Come now, Anthony, I know you’re curious about the truth behind those stories,” managing a purr, Loki smirked.

Throwing up his hands, Tony made a break for the door. “I crazy don’t! What you do with your time is your business, not mine. I don’t do kids, let alone weird monster kids.” Tony practically leapt from the room. “Night!”

“Goodnight Anthony…” Turning away as the door slid shut, Loki muttered into the dimly lit room, “excellent.” Finally, something was going right. The eyes of the woolen snake glimmered, threads of bright silver shifting to give the illusion of life. Some dark shadows moved among the interlocking trees. A low hiss sounded in Loki’s head that had nothing to do with the poison slowly turning his veins to molten lead. “Yes, yes. He’ll come around. Mind yourself, nevertheless.”

The hissing abruptly stopped; replaced by the shuffling of footsteps on carpet. 

Loki whipped towards the sound, nearly downing himself as a wave of vertigo rolled over him and his stomach lurched into his throat.

A man stood before Loki, visible finally, the room not covered in unnatural shadows; remarkable in only his unremarkability. A slightly overlarge shabby grey suit did nothing to increase his stature, though he stood near Loki’s height. His shoulders were bent slightly with age. The only feature to distinguish him from the mass of other Midgardians who commuted the city below each day was his face; a twisting maw of shadows that coiled and hissed, entirely concealing his face.

Had Loki not known the exact spell to produce the effect, it would have been intimidating. Never taking his eyes off the smoke faced man, Loki moved to lean against his dresser. Without the presence of his companions, the persistent fire within him grew exponentially more difficult to ignore. His vision fuzzed to greater colors and he tried to blink away the effect. “Taking our relationship to the next level, are we?”

“You’ve been busy, I feel the change in presentation is warranted. And I got bored of not being able to speak face to face,” as he spoke, Luke paced across Loki’s rug. Long, elegant strides that contradicted the age of his voice. “Where did you put the cargo ship?”

“The swamps of Svartalfheim have a new permanent resident.” Loki swayed. It took a great deal of concentration to maintain the air of strength while his body protested and every word threatened his composure.

Luke tugged at the collar of his suit; black smoke curled itself around his gloved hand for a swift moment. “You put them on my tail.”

“Oh, please. They will not find traces of your magic on those sailors, they’ll find mine. You’ll be written off as nothing more than a well planned lie spun up as a decoy. Rather convenient for you, my reputation being what it is. And are you even you? Last time a man tried so hard to conceal his identity to me I was-- what’s the Midgardian term… being catfished, I believe.”

Luke burst out laughing, nearly a cackle as some age seemed to leak through his voice. At the sound, hate boiled under Loki’s skin. “Was it now? What a fun time for you. I can presume that ended poorly.”

“You cannot imagine, I assure you.” Loki inched closer to Luke. Had he the strength, he would have loved to strangle the life from his tormentor. Even as Luke’s birdy titters died away, Loki hissed with anger he had been carefully controlling out of self preservation.  _ All he had to do was wrap his fingers around the man’s neck; it could be over so fast. _

Seeming to notice his advances, Luke held up a gloved hand. “Calm down, now. Don’t want to overexert yourself. I’m not done asking questions.”

“Of. Course. You.  _ Aren’t _ .” Taking his weight off his dresser, it took all of Loki’s will to take a step on his own. His muscles were locking up under the imagined fire licking at them and the toxin pulsing throughout his body.

“What’s your next step?”

“You really expect- ex--” Loki stuttered. The ground rushed forward as his legs failed him. He gasped, fire choked his lungs. Shame joined atop the burning pile of anger. He glared up at Luke from his knees. “The Avengers-- S.H.I.E.L.D., will find who- who’s behind the ship’s disappearance.” His silver tongue burned and words came out stuttering and short. “After that. There will be but one thing. To do. I run.”

Luke stopped pacing. “Run where?”

“Somewhere they cannot find me. Not far, though. I’m sure, with whatever spells you’re watching me with, will have no such problems locating it.” Loki hissed out the words quickly, trying to overcome his own weakness and keep the one asset that always stood by him, his words. Everything was fire. The more he spoke the more the sickly sweetness overtook his mouth and turned his stomach.

“Your life depends on it.”

Ignoring the threat, Loki attempted to stand. He failed. Falling back onto his hands and knees, he asked the one question that had been eating at him, “why?”

“Excuse me?”

“Why, why are you doing this?” Breath hitching in his throat, Loki’s eyes watered. There had to be a reason. He’d hurt a great deal of Midgardians without thought. If he could at least get a reason, he could begin to understand. If this man even was Midgardian, his enemies hardly stopped at the realm’s edge.

A long pause followed. Finally, Luke shrugged. “You won’t like any reason I give you. Maybe I’m just filling a roll left empty, maybe I want to, maybe I’m getting paid. What does it matter?”

A shudder wracked Loki. He refused to accept that answer. “More than that! Who did I hurt? What family or friend did I thoughtlessly destroy? How have I wronged you?”

“You never did.”

“Wha-what?” Loki’s anger evaporated into bafflement.

Luke shook his head, smoke trailing. “I have no grudge with you, Trickster.”

His fury returned like a tidal wave and Loki struggled to his feet. “If you have to quarrel with me, what right do you have to do this?”

Luke took a step back, clearly surprised by his anger. “Do not mistake my lack of a need for vengeance for apathy. This is  _ highly  _ personal. And there are… interested parties out there who want certain things. And I’m making sure those parties are satisfied.”

Loki grit his teeth; he was burning, everything was burning, he would burn to a crisp on this rug. “I am not a toy to be used by some apathetic mortal!” Fires sparked at his fingertips, crackling in the silent room. If he was going to burn, so would everything else.

Backing up, Luke pointed at him. “Don’t.”

“No.” The air smelled of ozone.

“You won’t.” Luke held up a small syringe.

“Watch me.”

Smoke curling around Luke’s face was now joined by curls drifting off Loki’s own clothes. Luke continued backing away. “After what you said to your brother, you’re just going to do this? Really?”

“I will- I--”  _ Thor _ . The look in Thor’s eyes flashed in Loki’s mind. He dropped to the ground, hating himself.  _ Sentiment _ , hissed the Titan’s echo in his ear. His greatest flaw among a forest of them. Chance wasted, Loki glared at his tormentor but said nothing.


	5. Chapter 5

Tony's phone buzzed. He glanced at the number, not recognizing it he ignored it. “Ugh, how'd this number even get out?” Annoyed, he sent it directly to voicemail, expecting silence.

Instead, he got a very angry Thor. “Man of Iron, pick up this infernal device now! I know you can hear this!”

Scrambling, Tony rushed to respond. He couldn't remember the last time he'd Thor that furious. “Alright, I'm here! What’s-- who's phone is this?”

“A generous fellow’s; but that matters not. Where is--”

“Where's yours? You didn't break it again did--”

“ _ Perhaps _ ,” Thor sounded defensive.

“Dude, those are one of a kind!” Tony saw Thor’s hammer fly past the window, down into the city. “What's going on?”

Thor’s voice became suddenly distant as he talked to whoever was with him on the other end. “Many thanks for this, good sir.” 

“Thor!” Tony stood, anxious. A low rumble of thunder sounded from somewhere not too far off.

“Where is my brother?” The line went dead.

“Wha-- damnit!” Tony barely had time to throw down his phone before it buzzed again.

This time it was Steve. “Tony, you need to make sure Loki doesn't go anywhere!”

Cradling his phone with his shoulder, Tony grabbed his half finished prototype repulsor and sprinted towards the elevator, trying to remember the last place he’d seen the god. “What the hell is happening?” He had a pretty good guess, as much as he didn't like it. Thor had gone to talk with those sorcerers and Steve had been called into S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters early that morning, until now there’d been total radio silence.

There was no panic in Steve’s voice. “He's involved in this. They found his… for lack of a better word: magical fingerprints, all over those sailors.”

“Y-you sure?” Tony’s mouth went dry. From the windows, he saw a red caped figure fly past. “Shit,” he muttered to himself.

“Yes. Fury triple checked the reports himself.” Steve paused, sighing, “I just want to talk to him. There’s got to be an explanation for this that we can’t see. Just make sure he doesn’t run before we can talk.”

“You’re on my side for this?” The elevator zoomed upwards. Storms rumbled outside. “Sounds like Thor’s not in a  _ talking  _ mood.”

“Be careful. What’d he find with those magicians?”

Tony squeezed out the elevator doors as they opened. “Sorcerers, not magicians. And I dunno.” He frowned at the empty room, one of many storage floors. “Jarvis, why’d you take me here?”

“Sir, there’s an electrical storm on the floors above, traversing it will short circuit my programming and prove to put you in harm's way.”

A sick tossing in his stomach, Tony spoke again to Steve. “Obviously nothing good.”

Now worry began to creep into Steve’s voice. “We need him to talk. Don’t let Thor get carried away. Don’t--”

With a great ‘ _ WHOOOM _ ’ the floor above Tony crashed down in front of him in a heap of wreckage. Concrete dusted the air. The hairs on the back of Tony’s neck stood on end. Static overtook the phone and Tony lost whatever Steve was saying. Pocketing the phone, Tony cautiously watched the dust clear.

A pale hand appeared from the wreckage, and Tony watched Loki heave himself up. Cradling his shoulder, Loki barely gave Tony a glance before looking up from where he had crashed. A cut across his forehead ran blood into his right eye. “Brother, I do not believe you are thinking this through--” Loki rolled out of the crater in the floor, dodging Mjolnir which came from above. “Thor, listen to me! You’re not acting sensibly!”

The air buzzed with electricity as Thor leapt down from floors up. He landed hard, cracking the already wrecked stone. Tony instinctively backed up. Never had he seen Thor like this. A term sprang to mind, one he’d heard about from the pair of gods but had dismissed as them pulling his leg: ‘ _ berserker rage _ .’ He desperately needed to stop underestimating them.

Mjolnir returned to Thor and he pointed it accusingly at Loki. “Was it all a lie, Trickster? How many times are we to play this same charade?” With Thor’s words came thunder that rocked the tower. Electricity arced around the room.

Tony got the sudden, very unusual, very unwelcome feeling of insignificance. Pushing past his instinct to run, Tony spoke up. “Hey, big guy, I don’t know what you heard but--”

“Stay out of this!” Thor turned the full force of his rage on Tony. A gust of wind blew Tony back a few steps; electricity crackled in his ears and his hair rose on end.

A burst of green energy struck Thor in the gut and seemed to knock the wind from him. The electricity in the air around Tony dissipated.

“Here, brother!” Emerald smoke drifted off Loki’s hand. An arc of electricity burst off onto the wall behind him.

Mjolnir glowed blue as Thor took a step towards Loki. “You attacked them. You spirited away that ship. You hurt those men, turning their minds; good men! You do naught but hurl filthy lies! It is all you have ever done, all you ever will do! All you will ever be is a deceiver!” Thor swung for Loki, lighting rippling through the room. His anger wrinkled the air itself.

“B-brother,” Thor’s words appeared to tear through Loki, who stammered. Pressed against the wall, with nowhere to go, Loki stepped back. He passed through the wall behind him, disappearing.

Thor’s strike whiffed on thin air.

A few paces away, Loki stepped out of the wall again. “Listen, brother--”

“Enough listening!” Thor swung a fist, which Loki narrowly ducked. He left a hole in the wall and barely slowed down to free himself.

Running across the room, Loki brushed his fingers along the ground. From his touch, the slick stone floor began to writhe and hiss. Snakes rose ankle high and began to wrap themselves around Thor.

Looking from the undulating floor, the phenomenon stopped only a few steps from him where Tony could see the snakes eyes glimmering, to the two brothers squaring off, Tony resisted the urge to take cover. As his brain so helpfully reminded him, _these were gods._ _Forces of nature;_ very literally in Thor’s case. _Living stories,_ as Loki was so fond of referring to himself as.

Thor roared, ripping himself free of his restraints, the snakes dissolved into nothingness. He rushed Loki, sweeping Loki’s legs and downing him. Standing above Loki, Thor raised Mjolnir. Electricity arced down the tower. “What about last night? Was that all yet another lie? I thought you wanted to change but all you wanted to do was manipulate your way into our good graces! You will never change! Ever!”

Judging by the way Loki flinched and by the smell of burning hair, the lighting flowing into Mjolnir first passed through Loki. “Please, Thor, brother, I’m sor--”

Pulling Loki up by the collar, Thor shook him roughly. Electricity still crackled off Mjolnir. “ _ Sorry _ ? No, it is I who’s sorry. Sorry that you--”

“Enough with the righteousness!” Still held aloft, Loki twisted his wrist and blasted Thor with a burst of energy.

Thor deflected it easily with Mjolnir and growled. Slamming Loki into the windows with a sharp “ _ crack _ ” as Loki’s head connected and nearly shattered the plate glass.

Raising his repulsor glove, Tony shouted over the crashing thunder. Enough damage had been done. “Thor, stop or I’ll stop you!”

Thor released Loki, who slumped to the ground, dazed. “You know not of what you speak, mortal!” Dropping Mjolnir, Thor advanced on Tony. In his eyes was nothing but anger. It was unnatural.

Not wavering, Tony powered up the glove. “I don’t want to do this, big man!”

Struggling up, Loki called out. “Thor!” Green sparks flickered and died at his fingertips as Loki swayed, cradling the back of his head. “Stop, you’re not in your right mind!”

Thor bared down on Tony, electricity arcing off his armor.

“Sorry, not sorry!” Firing the prototype, Tony grimaced.

Taking the full blast of sound, Thor only had time to reach out before he dropped to the ground in a heap.

Relieved, Tony muttered to himself, “field test one: a resounding success.”

“Much appreciated.” Rising to his full height, Loki nodded. Blood dripped from the gash on his face and his eyes didn’t quite focus on Tony.

Tony turned the repulsor on Loki. “Don’t make me do the same to you. I have no idea what the hell is happening but… did you do it?”

“Yes.” There was not even a moment’s hesitation in Loki’s response and it made Tony’s heart ache. “You’ll understand, eventually. I have faith enough in that.” Mist began to pour into the room from thin air. Loki’s eyes were sad and impossibly old.

“Don’t.”

“I’m sorry.” Loki raised a hand and pointed at Tony. The mist began to coalesce around Loki.

Tony flinched and in that instant, Loki disappeared. Dropping the repulsor, Tony shook his head. “Damnit.”

**00000**

A cloud of dust rose as Loki appeared in a darkened apartment. He coughed as the grime scattered. Ignoring the musty air, Loki shuffled to the couch, nearly tripping on one of the many rugs adorning the floor, and fell upon it in another puff of dust beginning to tally the many aches of his body.

The gash across his forehead; product of a blow from the edge of Mjolnir. A likely fractured wrist, the quickly forming map of bruises, and a bruised ego;  _ though that was nothing new, _ from his multistory plummet. From the way his head throbbed and how hard it was to stand again, Loki guessed his knock against the side of the tower had done a bit more than momentarily daze him.

Groaning, Loki gingerly felt the crown of his head and pulled back to see his fingertips bloody. “Oh, Hel.”

Preparing to heal both gashes, Loki reached for his seidr and loosed a spell.

Less than a second later, his blood began to burn and the rest of his body followed.

“No, no, no, no!” Frantically releasing the spell, Loki shot up. Heart pounding, he shuddered. Whatever was in that poison kept him from healing himself. A precaution likely to ensure he couldn’t just purge the venom from his system. It made sense and in a different context he could have appreciated the attention to detail.

The pain made him wonder just what magical modifications he could get away with. Ignoring his pounding headache, Loki focused on his hand. As he did, he watched his fingers grow thin. Though nowhere near the pain of his attempt at healing, Loki noted the white-hot needling spreading across his hand. Shaking off the transformation, Loki massaged his palm as the needling stopped.

Experiencing a sudden lightheadedness that had nothing to do with his concussion, Loki thought on the fever that had been plaguing him. If the venom truly reacted to any magical interference, he did not have to stretch to extreme shapeshifting for a culprit. It lurked skin deep.

The curse, or enchantment as he referred to it on more generous days, had origins that evaded him; magics far too complex for what it seemed. What, by all appearances, was a shapeshift to shield himself and others from the Jotun visage had far too great a longevity and capacity for growth. It surpassed any such spells he’d researched. It defied explanations he attempted to assign other than the innately sentimental and annoying. Among the sappiest: sheer desire to be wanted in a singular moment by a child that led to a spell far beyond what should have been possible.

Loki scoffed at himself and wiped blood from his brow. Pushing off the train of thought, Loki slowly made for the dusty kitchen counter, testing each step before he took it. He’d sooner burn in fever for decades before seeking refuge in that part of him. As desperate his station, he’d yet to sink that low.

He rummaged through the mostly barren cabinets, searching indiscriminately. Last time he’d set foot in this place had been to clear it out, rid it of any trace magics, save for its warding spells. The only reason he’d maintained ownership was if he needed a quick split from the cushy Avengers tower. And while he had vividly imagined many a scenario where that was the case, none quite followed these events. None quite left him with such a hollow chest.

Loki pulled a bottle of Vanir liqueur from one of the old shelves and sighed, “I hate to waste this.” An exhausted thought prodded him to down it all and lose himself. But the blood that fell into his eyes was a rather convincing argument to be dealt with. Snagging a bit of gauze from another cabinet, Loki dabbed the gauze with alcohol and pressed it to his forehead, shivered as it stung.

Alone.  _ He was alone again. _ Alone in a dusty barren room, bleeding, no doubt observed by the very man who drove him to this point. He shuddered again, this time not from the protests of his wounds but from the image of a furious Thor.

It was fury well earned and Loki knew it. Though that made the heartache no less great.

In the must and dust, Loki watched the sky slowly darken and nursed his wounds while his invisible ones reared their heads and set his body ablaze.

“Quite the place for a god.” Luke’s entrance wasn’t predated by a characteristic ring of golden sparks. Only furthering his distance from the Masters. His head still appeared as an event horizon of nothingness.

Glaring at him from across the counter, Loki pulled out a glass and poured what remained of his Vanir liqueur into it. “She’s seen better days.” He offered the drink out.

Luke politely declined. “Very diplomatic, ever the royal blooded prince, I see; but why would I take that from you of all people?”

Loki shrugged and withdrew the offer. He swirled the drink around in its glass, watching it for a few moments. “Suit yourself.” Abandoning a thread of self preservation he took a sip of the drink, Loki suppressed a grimace. He tasted nothing but artificial sweetness, which was only amplified by the drink. Even his chance to drown his sorrows was stolen from him.

“What is this place, by the way?” Continuing his casual tone, Luke pulled up a stool and took a seat opposite Loki. Turning his concealed head to the bloody gauze discarded by the sink and the cut on Loki’s forehead. “Rent must be hell for this locale.”

Letting out a hissing sigh, Loki glanced out the window overlooking Central Park. He ached. “In theory. Good thing the landlord believes it’s owned by an old crone who bought it up a good forty years ago who simply cannot seem to die, bless her non-existent heart. For that matter, bless short-sighted Midgardian deals. And the easily manipulated Midgardian mind.”

Luke’s voice was smug. “Not just the human mind. I see your brother roughed you up a bit upon your exit. He’s always so… quick to anger with the right prodding, isn’t he?”

The air seemed suddenly sucked from the musty apartment. “You.” Staring at Luke’s non-face with renewed interest, Loki thought back on Thor’s berserker rage. He’d never before been on its receiving end despite his many transgressions. Perhaps there was something unnatural about it this time. An extra provocation. “Was that due to your meddling? There are some lines that should not be crossed by mortal men; tampering with the minds of gods is one of them.”

It was Luke’s turn to shrug. “Yet, I’m still here. Imagine that.”

“I dislike your pride. It is unbefitting.” Loki leaned heavily against the counter. His vision flickered with colors. “Gods are not pets for you to play with.”

Luke tapped his gloved fingers against the countertop. “Hypocrite. And what do you know about me?”

Nauseous, Loki at first couldn’t answer. “I… I was Odin’s pet first, much as he will deny it; then I was the Titan’s. I am not yours, I will never again be someone’s pet; certainly not a mortal man’s, no matter his proficiency.” He glared into the void of Luke’s head. “It would be wise of you to remember that. And to remember a bit of humility.” Loki’s veins burned.

For a moment, Luke was silent. Then he burst out laughing. “You are  _ hilarious _ . Deny it all you want, you  _ are  _ on a leash. You’re dancing to the tune I gave you. Even if I wasn’t here, you’re still following the orders of Asgard to keep yourself out of a cell.” He wheezed, slamming his hand on the counter.

Reigning in his tongue before he could snap, Loki glared at his tormentor.  _ That information was close held, not even S.H.I.E.L.D. knew it. _ “How do you know about that?” 

Luke tented his hands and tilted his void of a head. “The age old mystery. How indeed?”

Frustrating and humiliating as Luke’s non-answer was, Loki saw his newly prideful stance for what it could be; a could be the key to bringing about his downfall. It was a new tune but Loki knew just the dance for it. 


	6. Chapter 6

Over the next few days images of the Avengers nix Loki surfaced, spurring a veritable rumor mill. At least, according to the overloud talkshows indulged upon by Loki’s upstairs neighbor. The nuisance was generally infuriating, the asinine programs jabbered away at the most inopportune moments.

Despite the fact that he had entirely renovated the apartment, replacing the enchantments he had let rot. Grand windows gave him a passable view of the park. Countertops no longer were cheap stone but the under the finest marble glamour he could manage. Same went for the furniture and wallpaper, previously a dreadful pattern of paisley now glimmered golden. Incense burned evermore on the bedside table, filling the apartment with a rich smoky odor. It was as close an approximation to luxury as he could manage in the limited space. And yet, the nuisance of neighbors still remained and reared their head at odd times.

Now, early, before the sun had begun its rise, was one of those times. Loki sat cross legged on his couch; he poked and prodded at the myriad of spells surrounding him to ensure their longevity, lighting the room in a green glow as he did. All the while, listening to his neighbor’s rambling entertainment.

“Should we be treating this as a shift in the status quo? Will the mighty Thor be next to vanish? Perhaps the time of gods on Earth has ended?” The reporter, if they could be called that, cried with false drama.

Loki muttered into the empty room, “when the time of gods does end, all will know it. And there certainly won’t be Midgardians left to discuss such events.”

“We took a poll from our listeners and I’m here to read some of our favorite suggestions!” The announcer’s excited voice droned on, “a morbid but fun one: a god-butcher is to blame! While we’re not sure exactly what that means, boy it sounds ominous! Some others: that he actually died in some grand sacrificial act; though our listener suggesting that swears he’ll be back as a younger version of himself to redeem his past crimes.” The announcer laughed. “In this day and age, anythings possible! But we all know what’s really going on; a good, old fashioned, celebrity break up. Drama, heartbreak, maybe some blood rain! We’ll be back with compelling evidence after this break!”

“I will never understand what Thor sees in the common rabble of this realm.” Rolling his eyes, Loki released his machinations and stood, ignoring the now constant aches of his body. Without companions to distract him and nothing more he could add to make his living quarters more bearable, Loki could do naught but tally the pains that followed him through every waking hour. Each day they seemed to grow.

His multitude of woes wasn’t the only ever expanding problem. Luke’s pride grew with the insatiable hunger of a fledgling dragon. Nothing seemed to have delighted him more than the tight leash around Loki’s own neck. Though enraging Thor, however briefly, also made the rounds in his not so subtle boasts.

If Luke reveled in enscoreling gods, Loki would give him another.

Flicking his wrist, Loki disappeared from the apartment and popped into Central Park wearing his Asgardian garb. Sliding down the grassy shore near its lake, Loki headed for the tear between realms. Ripping wide the fragile barrier separating realms, Loki stepped through.

Asgard was no less beautiful in the early morning hours and its streets markedly more peaceful. Loki encountered only a scarce few sober residents, most of whom pretended to ignore him in favor of setting up their stalls; averting their eyes more than a bit conspicuously. He had neither the time nor energy to care. Every step he felt deep in his bones and being unsure whether it was the toxins in his body or his own memories of Asgard as the culprit exhausted him to no end. He passed through the gates of the palace with a nod to the Einherjar guarding the gates. It was an immense weight off his shoulders to see that he was not stopped. Either Heimdall had been lax, _ very unlikely _ , or Luke’s operation was on a grander scale than Loki had first anticipated. No single sorcerer of a caliber Loki knew could concoct that great a coverup. Quickening his pace, Loki hoped to intercept his quarry before the morning training began.

Much to his pleasure, Loki did just that. Catching Sif just as she exited her chambers, Loki feigned more relief than he felt. “Oh, thank the Allfather. Sif, I need your help.”

She took him in, frowning suspiciously. “Loki, are you not with Thor protecting Midgard?”

Taking her by the shoulders, gingerly as to keep his hands unbroken, Loki fell into a whisper, “Thor is the very reason I seek you out. He is in grave danger and in dire need of help more than any Midgardian can provide. Sif, please, help me or his life is forfeit.” From experience, Loki knew no self respecting Asgardian could refuse a good chance to play hero, or sweet flattery.

Sif’s eyes lit up, though worry tinged her voice. “Danger of what sort? How has Heimdall not seen this peril? How--” She squinted at him, “why should I believe you?”

“Subterfuge on a grand scale. I myself should not know. I loath to admit this but I need truly, genuinely, your help; I cannot do this alone. I swear upon my liar’s tongue that these words are true. Despite all my tricks I lack a warrior’s conviction. That is something you possess in great quantity, Lady Sif.”

“Could you not just go to the Allfather? Surely he--”

Keeping his annoyance in check, Loki shook his head. “We have no time for a grand army, this requires delicacy that the common soldier does not possess. You, chief among Thor’s companions, have the necessary fineness. Are you not his most trusted sparring companion for a reason? Do not make me resort to begging at Fandral’s feet.” He released her.

For a few moments she thought on his words. Finally, she nodded. “Aye, you have my help. But, Loki,” slipping her double bladed spear beneath her cloak, Sif began to walk down the hall briskly.

Loki followed. “Hmm?” Inside, he hummed with delight at his accomplishments.

“I needn’t be buttered like a roll by your words. Reign in that silver tongue of yours or I shall do it for you.” She glanced sideways at him, face stern.

“You are ever the poet, dear Sif.”

Substituting Thor in place of his own woes, Loki spun off the story of the last week as they walked through the city’s heart.

She followed as best he hoped she would. “This poison, it causes him pain? If he has not told you, how could--”

Slipping past a street vendor, Loki feigned exasperation, not finding it a difficult emotion to conjure. “He is my brother, if you remember. I find I know him better than myself most days.”

Walking along Asgard’s rocky shore, Sif expressed doubts. “This passage, it is safe, yes?”

Loki’s smirk was undercut by a flinch as pain spike through his shoulder. “I am still whole, am I not?”

“Err…”

“Rude. For Thor’s sake, I will ignore it.”

“Since when do you care so deeply for any but yourself?”

Slipping his footing, Loki narrowly avoided collapsing. He hissed low as his body complained. “A bold assumption. Need I remind you, I am still a prince whose station is above your own…” Before she could fake an apology, Loki sighed, “perhaps you misunderstand. I do look out for myself, first and always. But that vigil can extend to the lives of others. You think, in your ways, that the greatest thing one could do for another is die. But why should it be? When would that be the best option?”

Adjusting her ponytail, Sif’s frown deepened. “When the only other option is their death. To sacrifice yourself for what’s right and just.” She rattled off the answer she’d no doubt been fed from the old tales they were told as youths.

Stepping into the cavern, Loki ran his hands along the glittering walls that would get them back to Midgard. “That’s ridiculous. Why not just make another choice? One where none must die wholly. So that we all get what we want, in a certain way.”

“But you said--”

“You think inside the constraints of heroism. There are other options, there always are. I’ve found that Midgardians see them more than we do, in their fleeting nature they fight and scramble for new choices. Sometimes they make their own. These choices are never as neat as the ones given to gods. But they exist for a purpose. They simply might not fall within your tastes. Dirty work, Sif, someone must do it. And it is not always Midgardians.” Tugging at the barrier, Loki turned back to grin at her.

She glanced at the rippling of reality. “You compare yourself to them? Could that be humility I hear?”

Pulling the two of them through, Loki couldn’t answer until they stood back in Central Park, startling a jogging couple. “Ha, no. While you and Thor do thing the warrior’s way, Sif. I, on the other hand, will take this change to something grand and far above what they can achieve. Out of these actions, I intend to carve what I need. I am doing things the Loki way… and I get things done.” Turning on heel, he prepared to leave her alone. “Your ear was much appreciated. Do watch out for yourself in this fine city.”

Before she could even have the opportunity to express outrage, Loki disappeared back to his glowing apartment.

**00000**

Nursing an Irish Coffee, Tony stared at his half eaten toast. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to this than a simple betrayal.

Thor felt the same. Hearing Tony tell him what he’d said to Loki had left him shattered. “ _ I never-- I didn’t mean that-- I don’t remember… _ ” And they weren’t the only ones who thought something was out of place but all the evidence stacked against them. Against Loki. And Loki’s retreat hadn’t helped matters. They had a job to do and if Loki stood in their way, something had to be done.

“Sir,” Jarvis spoke up, “there is someone rather intriguing in your lobby. She is quite… annoyed.”

“If it doesn’t have to do with a ten year old with suspicious parentage, tell her to get an appointment.”

“She claims to be Asgardian, sir. By her garb and perchance for threatening me with primitive weaponry, I am inclined to believe her.”

Jolted awake more than coffee ever could, Tony abandoned his breakfast. “I’ll be down in a minute. Could you--”

“I have just informed the remainder of the team.”

“You’re a lifesaver, Jarvis.”

Thor beat Tony and the rest of the team to the lobby, though they arrived in time to see the dark haired armor clad woman in a red cloak, who Tony vaguely recognized, grab Thor by the shoulders. “You are well?”

Laughing, Thor smiled at her. “Aye! What led you to believe I was not? For that matter, how have you found your way to our doorstep? Does the Bifrost stand again?”

The warrior woman scowled. “Nay, not yet. The usual suspect is to blame for this mischief. Where is he, I’d like to give Loki a piece of my mind and fists.” Tony’s stomach bottomed out.

Thor’s smile died. “He’s… gone.”

“I-- what?” She seemed taken aback.

Steve spoke up. “Loki went into hiding five days ago after evidence connected him to the attack of a military vessel. But you’ve had contact with him? Did he--” Steve stopped himself and turned to Thor. “Can we trust her?”

Nodding, Thor waved a hand towards her. “This, my companions, is Lady Sif; one of Asgard’s finest warriors and a close personal friend. I would trust her with my life and I certainly trust her word.”

Sif bowed to them. “It is an honor to finally meet you all. We have heard many stories of thy feats. Unfortunate that the circumstances are as they be, I still shall treat this opportunity with respect.”

The memory of a younger, furious, bald version of Sif surfaced and Tony smirked.

Steve continued with his diplomatic tone. “The feeling’s mutual. What exactly did Loki tell you to get you here?”

Glancing at Thor, Sif shook her head. “Quite the tale.” As she spoke, Tony recognized parts of the story. It was the parts he didn’t that left a bad taste in his mouth. He saw similar looks of discontent on Steve and Thor’s faces, Natasha muttered something in Clint’s ear, Bruce rocked back and forth on his heels, frowning all the while. Wrapping up, Sif bit her lip. “I thought I could see through his lies after so long. Evidently I was sorely mistaken.”

“Hold up.” Tony looked around at the others, most of who seemed to be going through the same thoughts.  _ Had someone really been sneaking into the tower unseen?  _ “I don’t think it was all a lie. More like… a selective truth.”

Sif appeared doubtful. “I know not of Midgardian ideas but that certainly sounds like a lie by a different name.”

Shrugging, Tony opened his mouth to speak but Natasha beat him to it. “You’re not wrong but when we’re dealing with Loki that’s about all we can ask for. There’s a real possibility he might be in trouble. If we can get him out of it we might be able to make sure that  _ ‘messing with the Avengers’ _ is the last thing on anybody’s mind.”


	7. Chapter 7

“Here, you can have this room for now.” After a lengthy discussion on what the could to to combat an enemy they’d never even seen and a lecture from Fury, Tony was finally able to find time to saddle Sif with a room. He could tell by her silence that she was unimpressed by the technologically advanced room. “You want anything, just ask Jarvis. Say “ _ hi _ ,” Jarvis.”

“I believe we have already been introduced.”

Sif dropped her double-bladed spear on the bed. “Yes, I’ve met thine invisible servant.”

“... Right.” Tony’d nearly forgotten what the Asgardians sounded like and thanked any applicable gods for how much the team had modernized the two brothers. “Anything he can’t provide I’m sure you can magic for your--” Tony stopped as he hear Sif scoff. “Sorry, what?”

“Do not insult me, Man of Iron.” She stared him down.

“I-I wasn’t?” Tony backed up slightly, mildly concerned by her sudden turn. “Trust me, you’d know if I was. And ‘Tony’ is fine.”

Not taking a cautious eye off of him, Sif unclasp her cloak. “Then do not assume my abilities. I am no gutless sorcerer.”

Raising his eyebrows, Tony began to back towards the door. “Sensing I touched a nerve. Got it.” He threw her a tight smile.

Before he could make it out the door, Sif held out a hand. “Wait, Man of Iron--”

“Tony.”

“I understand you meant not to insult. Much of your understanding of Asgard comes from its Princes, no?”

“I impersonated a guard once. But Loki was there, so yeah, sure.”

Sif went slack jawed for a moment as she processed his words. “Wha--”

“Nevermind, I was… kidding,” he fibbed. “What were you saying?”

She recovered, though still frowned slightly. “Ah-- It would be wise to remember that they are  _ Princes _ . Their view of Asgard is not always an accurate one. What you know may not be the whole truth. Should you ever travel to Asgard, know that insults are easy to fling and hard to dismiss.”

Tapping his fingers against the doorframe, Tony responded deadpan, “any point to this little lecture or..?”

“They are, both of them, exceptions to the rule of Asgard in their own way. Thor, crown prince who refuses the crown. I may trust in his decision but that does not mean all do. Loki… there are a great many rules he bends and breaks. I think, though, where thy mistake stems, is from his preference for the arcane over more honorable techniques. Were he not a prince--” Sif paused, frown deepening. “Excluding his origins-- he would never have been encouraged to pursue that craft.”

“Uh-huh… Interesting chat.” Tony stepped through the open doorway. “Night, sleep tight.” The door slid shut behind him. Sighing, Tony scratched his stubble. Sleeping was the last thing on a long list of issues to deal with. Figuring out how Jarvis could have been fooled. Double checking with Bruce what remained of Loki’s bloodwork. Cleaning up the mess left by Thor and Loki’s fight. Checking Thor for any remaining magic influences. It would be a long night.

Made longer by the fact that the first place Tony found himself was Loki’s room. Skimming through drawers and shelves, Tony searched for any clues that might have been left behind. Had he been less worried, he would have relished the chance to rifle through the many trinkets Loki kept locked away. Though his enthusiasm waned after putting on a golden ring that made his hand go entirely, painfully, numb.

Discarding the ring and massaging life back into his arm, Tony scanned the room. “Stupid… who makes something that useless…” Focusing in on the tapestry above Loki’s bed, Tony remembered, rather unwillingly, the odd conversation they’d shared about it. At the time it’d seemed like an opportunity for Loki to make Tony uncomfortable, something the god indulged in often.

The snake around its border wove itself in endless knots. Dark shapes moved among the interlocking trees. It gave Tony the strange feeling of being watched.  “No...  _ goddamn  _ way.” There was a light behind the serpent’s eye. It stared at him almost lifelike. Maybe too lifelike. Throwing caution to the wind, Tony spoke into the empty room. “H-hey, nice snake, you listening?”

He felt nothing.

Stubbornness taking over, Tony persisted, “where are my manners. Jarvis, what’s the big snake’s name?”

A brief pause. “There are multiple but the name you need is Jormungandr, the Midgard Serpent.”

“Jormun-- I’m gonna pretend I know how to pronounce that.” Tony focused back on the twisting woolen serpent. “Hey, Jormungandr; you’re an Earth guy, apparently, and I’m an Earth guy. What a coincidence! I- uh- need to know if your… dad,” Tony grimaced, “left anything behind. He’s in a bit of a bind--”

A low hiss filled Tony’s head and he came to an abrupt halt. Immense pressure began to crush down on him as he stared at the serpent. It felt like the walls around him suddenly fell. A presence suffocated him.

He gasped and turned away; the hiss disappeared with the pressure. “Not the giant snake. Someone other than the big snake.” Clutching his head, Tony fought off a headache. “Jarvis, what--”

“If your idea is correct, which they usually are, for better or worse, you would wish to speak with is his daughter; Hel, Hela, Leah, she goes by many names but she is the most humanoid of them.”

Tony smiled. “You’re the best friend a guy could program.”

“I am well aware, sir.”

“Alright, round two.” Cracking his knuckles, Tony scanned the tapestry; finding the outline reminiscent of a woman, hiding in the shadows. “Not to be presumptuous but did you come from Hell because you’re… drop dead gorgeous. Not my best,” he admitted lamely. “Hey, Hel. You there?”

A different pressure began to compress him, no where near as unchecked as the last. Despite its restraint, it made Tony shudder in his slippers. A woman’s voice spoke in Tony’s head, high, clear, full of power, and unmistakably annoyed.  _ “You are every bit as excruciating as was warned. What is it, Anthony Stark, that my father sees in thee?” _

Glancing around, Tony responded aloud, “my striking good looks and genius level intellect? Or the fact that I can fly.” He felt the disapproval of the presence lessen and, before he could stop himself, he blurted out a question, “so, is he actually your dad or..?”

The slightest hint of amusement conveyed itself across Tony’s mind and the voice slowly transformed into that of a child though no less in control.  _ “Perhaps. Or perhaps not. I have ruled Hel for millennia, that I know. Yet, I also know that Loki is my father, despite this incarnation’s youth.” _

“This incarnation?”

_ “Such words concern you? God’s are creatures of story. As with all good stories, they are repeated, changed, reborn. Each has a role that they play in their story and once they find their role it takes sacrifice to slip free. I have a role, on occasion, Loki is my father in that role. It is this Loki?” _ A short pause, Tony got the distinct impression of a mental shrug.  _ “He is, just as all Loki’s burn, one way or another, just as I am Hel, Hela, Leah, all, or none. Just as Thors wield Mjolnir, whatever form they take.” _

Sitting on the edge of Loki’s bed, Tony stared at his hands. “This is way above my pretty considerable pay grade so I’m just going to settle with, yes, you’re his kid.” The thought of multiple realities gave him a headache, aliens were bad enough but this...

_ “You have some spine it seems. Most gods do not even want to confront the reality of their own being. Being lord of the dead puts things into perspective. But I did not separate a part of my consciousness into this tapestry simply to debate what has and hasn’t come to pass with a Midgardian. You wish to help my father, do you not?” _

“Yes! Can you help?” As Tony watched, relieved to be back on course, the silhouette of Hel stepped out from the woven trees.

Threads shifted and the figure changed from that of a dark haired child to that of a woman. Changing again, the woman’s face half distorted.  _ “We can.” _ Another shape emerged from the dark, a hulking wolf. It’s green woven eyes seemed to stare through Tony and a new pressure pushed down upon him; clever, predatory, hungry. The tapestry Hel placed a hand on it.  _ “This is he, indeed, Fenrir.” _

A low growl sounded in Tony’s head and the pressure around him tripled. Nervously, he smiled at the wolf, “nice doggy.” He flinched as the growl sounded again. Trying to focus on Hel, he spoke quickly. “So this help, where’s it at?”

Ignoring his discomfort, Hel’s words were slow.  _ “We can offer you what Loki rarely will, the truth. And a warning.”  _ She appeared to be enjoying Fenrir’s effect on him.

Tony swore he saw a smile flash across her woven face as she transitioned back to a dark haired child. “Whatever you are, I definitely see the Loki in you. The warning sounds more ominous, so let’s go with that.”

Again a child, Hel spoke.  _ “On the morning of his tenth day of exile, my father will attack this city. If you wish to avoid casualties, ensure that the Brooklyn Bridge is clear. But do not make your knowledge of this attack obvious.” _

Groaning, Tony nodded. “Oh yeah, that’ll be a cakewalk.” He held up a hand. “Before you tell me the rest, lemme get the team. They’re not going to believe this unless they hear it for themselves.”

Acknowledgment radiated.  _ “As you wish.” _ Hel’s pressure disappeared as the threads merged back into the trees. The massive wolf followed suit, eyes vanishing last.

**00000**

“Another Asgardian, really?”

“You disapprove?” Loki braced himself against the wall, exhausted by his body’s nightly losing battle and by the earlier dimensional travel. He had little energy for engaging in Luke’s amusement tonight, though he knew he must. 

Luke waved a dismissive gloved hand. “Just surprised. Wouldn’t think you’d want more trouble. Or people ready and willing to give you it.”

“I deal in trouble. And you would want that. You know I live to please.” Throwing Luke a toothy grin, Loki doubled over slightly as fire scorched his lungs. Survival was the only thing on his mind tonight. He desperately wanted this to be over. 

Luke, however, seemed to have no such wishes. “Tell me about her. I want to hear it from you.”

“Only if you return the favor and answer a question of mine.” Had Luke’s face not been concealed, Loki imagined he would have looked annoyed. It gave Loki the smallest of joys. Though that too, burned away within seconds.

Beginning to pace, Luke sighed, “nothing for nothing, is it? Maybe you’re wiser than I assumed. You first.”

“Her name is Sif,” Loki started, “she is as distinctly stubborn as Asgardians come. Almost admirably so, almost. Even before I betrayed everything she holds dear, I was among her least favorite of Thor’s companions. Likely my station has only fallen in her eyes,” Loki hissed through his teeth, attempting to keep his composure as his insides writhed, “my turn.”

Luke nodded and sat on the arm of Loki’s couch, rocking back and forth slightly. “Ask away, Liesmith.”

Gathering his thoughts, Loki attempted to salvage his temper from the incendiary flames. Was he to achieve anything, he needed to keep civil. “I’ll be direct, you appreciate that.” Luke nodded. “How does this cycle end in your eyes?”

Luke sat in silence for a long minute. “Does it have to? Do you not see a future with us together?”

Cold terror spiked Loki’s heart. “All things must end. And when I referred to catfishing earlier, I meant it as a jest, Luke. Besides, you’re not really my type, old man.”

Luke laughed, more of a wheeze. “No I’m not.” He sounded unsurprised and oddly firm on the statement. Again the cobwebs of Loki’s mind stirred uncomfortably.

“You still haven’t finished answering my question.”

“Ooh, you’re right,” Luke sounded smug. “It ends when I say it does, when my investment pays off. Or when you die. That option is still very real.” 

Gaze falling to the floor, Loki said nothing. It was the next step, no matter how he ran. Death haunted him, Loki understood that much. Each role had an ending. He had been the second son, the fallen, the villain, and the redeemed. The next step had always been a sacrifice to push his end to heroism. “Well, I am known for my cooperative nature, Luke.” Looking up again, Loki couldn’t stop himself from shaking. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> catch me blatantly ignoring but still referencing the MCU and the comics bc i couldn't help myself but mention leah; i love her a lot.


	8. Chapter 8

Hel’s explanation was calm, quiet, detailed, and brutal. It left them all rattled to know just what had gone on beneath their noses and put sleep far from all their minds.

Down in the labs, Tony drew up what was left of the blood he’d taken from Loki, Bruce at his side, Thor and Sif standing by.

Natasha, Clint, and Steve had gone to S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters to fill the Director in personally, instructed as they were by Hel to keep what they knew as secret as possible.

Tony watched the cold air pour off the small vial in a white mist. Transferring some of the contents into a microscope slide, Tony beckoned for Bruce to take over. 

Though Bruce did, he spoke skeptically, “not this kind of doctor Tony. Unless you want me to irradiate it I’m no better at this than you.”

Tony scoffed, “yeah? Good thing we’re both super geniuses, then. It’s just a bit of alien blood, how hard can it be to figure it out?” He pointed to the two gods. “And we’ve got alien backup if the going gets tough.”

There was silent doubt in Thor’s expression. Doubt that Sif spoke on, “the most we know about the inner workings of a Jotun is how best to kill them. I feel that is the opposite of what we desire in a case such as this.” Thor nodded.

Unphased, Tony watched Bruce fiddle with the dials on the microscope. “ _ Knowledge is power _ , as they say. It’s worth a go. And I’m pretty sure the scientific community at large would crucify us if we passed up this chance.” Tony grinned at Bruce. “At least, they’d try.”

Not looking up, Bruce responded deadpan. “Ha. Ha. You should do standup.”

“Only if you’re my second, big man.”

Bruce’s eye widened. “Check this out.”

Swooping in, Tony peered through the lense. “Woah.”

Expanding the projection onto a screen so that all could see. Among the dark cells, near black, something Tony had expected from the cold contact, some pale wisp of fluid sluggishly swirled. The overabundant cells, Tony chalked up to being part of the reason for the superhuman hardiness of the gods, hardly hindered it. Cells it passed through were left pale and withered, though it seemed to have trouble finding purchase with the darkest cells. Ones that were effected seemed to struggle to return to their normal color, ultimately failing as the poison spread in a slow march.

A low rumble came from Thor as they watched. “What vile components did this villain procure to make such a venom that could affect beings such as us? This is magic of the darkest kind.”

Bruce typed into his laptop, watching the projection “Looks like the poison’s having a hard time with the cold. Could be a way to slow it down.” He looked at the gods expectantly.

Both hesitated but Sif was the first to recover. “Sounds possible. Frost Giants do have an extraordinarily high tolerance for extreme cold, full grown ones at least. Of course, they also have a strong resistance to most poisons. Something Loki seems to be… lacking in.”

Glancing briefly to Bruce, Tony questioned them. “Full grown, what does that mean, exactly? How big are we talking about?”

It was Thor who answered. “A fine head and shoulders over me, at their smallest. I’ve seen some double my stature or more. And Loki…”

Sif picked up where Thor trailed off, “Loki is a runt, weak, puny.” She paused. “By their standards. He lacks their strength, likely in his blood as well. Despite the… arguably royal nature of it.”

“Excuse, I thought he was adopted?” Tony recognized Sif’s willingness to share and wasn’t about to waste the opportunity to learn things Thor and Loki were too uncomfortable to talk about. Indeed, Thor stared at him with a small, clearly disapproving frown.

Sif continued. “Aye. He was-- is the son of Laufey, their once king. He surely would have been groomed to rule had he not been a runt.”

“Yeah…” Tony took mental note of everything she said. “And what about--”

Coughing loudly, Bruce shot Tony a disapproving look. “ _ So _ , could we use the blood of a full grown giant to help purge his system? Do you-- they have blood types? Will that be an issue?” Thor and Sif shrugged in unison. Bruce sighed, “right…” He massaged his forehead. “That could work, though. How hard would it be to get ahold of some?”

It was Thor who finally spoke. His voice was full of unexpressed doubt. “None of us, save Loki, can pass between the barriers of realms without the Bifrost. He would have to be the retriever.”

“But he could?”

“Aye. He  _ could _ .” Something went unsaid in Thor’s hesitation.

Something that Bruce appeared not to have noticed. “Great. We’ve got four days to figure out how to tell him what he’ll need to do.”

**00000**

Listening to the songs Tony blasted throughout the tower, harsh and frantic in distinctly Midgardian stylings, Thor watched the rest of the team prepare for the fight to come. It was early, far earlier than he ever wished to rise but his blood pumped with anticipation for a brawl. Though it would be foolish of him to ignore his creeping dread. He’d hoped beyond hope to never fight his brother again. And this, even if a farce, shattered that meager wish.

Beside him sat Sif, inspecting her spear between enthusiastic sips of coffee that she had insisted on taking black, despite Thor’s cautions. She was the last person he had expected to be fighting alongside again. Though her presence was a boon, to be certain. It had been far too long since he’d fought by the side of an old friend.

“Hey, Tropic Thunder, move the hammer. This is a classy establishment I’m running here.” Tony motioned towards Mjolnir, which Thor had left on the counter top.

Between bites of her bagel, Natasha scoffed. “Stark that reference doesn’t-- mmm- even make sense. And -mhm-- you know it.” She brushed crumbs from the jacket she wore over her catsuit.

Tony shrugged, cradling his mug precariously. “It’s got thunder in the title, close enough.” He gestured to Thor, who retrieved Mjolnir with a small smile. “And it’s like three in the morning. I’m not at my best.”

Leaning over to him, Sif muttered in Thor’s ear, “what are they speaking of.”

“It escapes me.” Ignoring Sif’s confusion, he gazed fondly at the team.

The song changed in the background, making Sif jump as it screamed out at full volume. She glared up at the ceiling. “And this… I hesitate to call it music. You  _ like  _ this?”

Still smiling at the arguing team, Thor laughed slightly. “It  _ is  _ very brash. And unrefined. And angry. Full of messy notes and rushed stanzas not fully realized in fleeting snippets. But, dear Sif, listen,” he paused for a moment as the song played on; its singer belted out their heart at the top of their lungs. “It’s full of hope too, for the future, for change, for a better life they carve out themselves. Their music is so… human. Their melodies have more range and change, so distinctly them, than anything I’ve heard before. I relish every one, even if it does not match my tastes.”

Sif stared at him with a slightly bemused smile. “Ah.” She took a long draught of her coffee. “Protector of Midgard indeed. Lover too.”

“Until my final breath and long after if I can.”

Looking supremely nervous, Bruce sat opposite them. “You know what you’re going to say to Loki?”

“Aye.” Though how Loki would react, he was less sure. “Are you feeling well, Banner?”

Shrugging, Bruce stirred his coffee. “Just nerves. You think… we’ll need the other guy?”

“It is difficult to know what my brother has concocted. Though considering the history… it is doubtful he has any desire to face off against you again.” Thor saw Sif look curiously between them and he turned to her. “Dr. Banner is that one, yes.”

Sif looked delighted, gazing at Bruce with new respect twinkling in her eyes. “Oh! Thy reputation precedes you!”

Though Bruce sounded less than enthusiastic. “My reputat-- great.”

“Nothing but the good, friend,” Thor was quick to reassure.

He was aided by Sif’s genuine pleasure. “Is it true you nearly beat Thor in head on combat?”

Bruce stuttered. “I-- he--”

Lifting Mjolnir, Thor grinned. “I daresay he would have, had I not carried the power of the uru on my side.”

Smiling, Sif clasp her hands together. “Such high praise! I would be honored to one day test myself against thy might.”

Sheepishly, Bruce looked away. “That’s not really-- I don’t… I seriously doubt that.” Before Sif could reply, an alarm interrupted Tony’s music.

Steeling himself, Thor stood and gripped Mjolnir tight. “Your trap?” He looked to Tony.

Setting down his mug, Tony nodded. “Yup. Sensor must be picking something up on the bridge that shouldn’t be there.”

From where he had sat by the counter, Steve pointed towards Thor. “Get a headstart on us. Make sure there aren’t any civilians in danger. Try to keep structural damage to a minimum.”

Taking flight, Thor left the others behind. A flew through the glittering city in the early morning hours, wind howling in his ears failing to drown out his inner doubts. As he approached the Brooklyn Bridge, Thor saw a great display of sparks and a beastly gurgling met him.

A great, grey crab like monster, its width nearly spanning the bridge, scuttled along. The shell encasing it was covered in barnacles and coral. Four snapping claws, as long as Thor was tall, swung away as it gurgled. Its clattering legs narrowly avoided impaling a stray car. Thor recognized it as hailing from the depths of an old world.

The sight of it inspired begrudging respect for Loki’s commitment to theatricalism. As Thor descended he saw the beast’s rider. Illuminated by the bridge lights, Loki was not immediately recognizable under a less donned form and altered armor, lacking Loki’s distinctions and helmet. She sat cross legged atop the beast and waved at Thor as he touched down. “Greetings! If you can guess where this lovely creature is from I shall grant you a headstart!” Loki patted the crustacean, which gurgled, its eyestalks glowed green.

Shifting his grip on Mjolnir, Thor called out. “I have no times for your games, Lo--”

“Shh! Now there’s a name you shouldn’t say! Never know who’s listening!” With an exaggerated whisper, voice magnified no doubt by seidr, Loki pointed past Thor to a group of civilians recording the scene. “And you were supposed to ask: _“headstart from what?”_ Wherein I would answer: _“This!’_ ” Loki snapped her fingers and the crab’s eyes flashed.

Seconds later it charged Thor, spiky legs driving down mere paces from him like polearms. Jumping back, Thor repelled an attack from one of its massive claws but was quickly snatched by another.

As Thor was lifted into the air, crab’s claws attempting to crush the life from him, Thor heard Loki laughing. It was sharp, manic, but gleeless. He came face to face with Loki as the crab raised him up. And, despite the laughter from her grinning mouth, her eyes were grim. Had Thor not already known of the ruse, that fact surely would have alerted him to an act.

An explosion rocked the claw gripping him and the creature dropped him with a gurgle.

Flying in from above, Tony sent a barrage of bullets at the heavily armored crab. “Put down the beefcake god, random, possibly crab-based, fiend!” Amusement all too clear, Tony hovered over Loki and the creature as the Quinjet circled above the scene. The crab hissed and spit toward Tony, who deftly avoided the attack and proceeded to gloat. “You’ll have to be faster than a bit of seafood to--” 

A spell from Loki hit him directly in the face and burst into multicolored sparks around his head. Moments later a second spit globule caught the legs of Tony’s armor and Thor saw his metal suit lock up. Tumbling towards the street, Tony landed hard, cracking the ground. It took him a few seconds to move again. He struggled to wipe off the acidic spit.

During this distraction, the Quinjet moved directly above the crab and, with a mighty yell, Sif lept from the jet. She dove downward, spear first. Connecting with one of the crab’s claws, her spear barely scratched the surface of its thick shell. She skidded off its flank to land beside Thor. “Remember that dragon in Svartalfheim?”

“Aye.” Swinging his hammer, Thor smirked but did not take his eyes off Loki. Indeed all he needed to fell the creature was a bolt of lightning to boil it from the inside but that would leave him no time to explain to Loki. The two of them rolled out of the way of a spiky leg.

Continuing to cackle, Loki turned the crab on the Quinjet as it swooped low. Raking a hooked claw across one wing, the crab ripped a jagged slash that crippled one engine and forced the jet to pitch down onto the bridge; where it skidded to a halt, almost falling off the side.

Sif muttered to Thor over the explosion of the wrecked engine, “she’s doing quite the convincing job of this.” It was clear Sif had yet to overcome her grudge against Loki. “And why does she look like that?”

“I do not question,” Thor growled, “and you would expect anything less?” He smashed one of the creature's legs with a solid swing of Mjolnir. He saw it stagger and Sif took the opportunity to run into a slide underneath it. She slashed at its soft underbelly and dark purple blood rained from her strike. 

Taking advantage of the distraction Steve, newly freed from the wreck of the Quinjet, sprinted towards the crustacean. Thor watched as he leapt from the roof of a car onto the crab, landing directly beside Loki. Bashing Loki in the chest with his shield, Steve very nearly knocked her from her perch.

From Thor’s perspective, battling the many clattering legs of the crab, he saw the pair exchanged blows for a precious few moments. Loki deflected a throw of the shield, sending it ricocheting off one of the bridge’s pillars. Without her usual armor, the blow knocked her off balance. This left Loki open to a sweep of the legs and a kick to the stomach from Steve, sending her skidding down the side of the crab and into the melee of legs.

Rushing Loki before she could do more than dodge a leg, Thor dangled her over the bridge and growled, his voice barely audible over the gurgling crab. “We know.”

Relief flashed across Loki’s face for a brief moment before she settled back into a theatrical sneer. “And what do you plan to do about it, brother?” She grabbed at the hand Thor held her by. “He cannot hear us over this pretty skirmish I concocted.”

Glancing about, Thor shifted Mjolnir in his hand. “You shall not like it.”

“I do not  _ like  _ about anything of this situation, dunce.”

Thor shook her, pulling her in close to ensure secrecy. “You must go to Jotunheim.” He saw Loki’s eyes widen in disbelief.

Struggling for real now, Loki tottered precariously over the edge of the bridge. “You… why would I do that?!”

Securing his grip, Thor shook his head. “They think you can purge yourself of this poison with Jotun blood.”

“I-- I already  _ have  _ that you morons,” Loki’s voice cracked.

Thor winced as he felt the bridge quake. Looking back, he saw the crab fall to one side, underbelly pouring out it's purple guts. Sif wiped some from her bracers. During this distraction, Thor received a sharp kick to the face that pushed him back and forced him to release Loki. “No, wait!”

“Two days, tower!” Loki’s words caught in the wind as she dove down towards the dark water below, disappearing into the night.

Frustrated, Thor turned to the still living crab and called down a bolt of lightning. The crustacean exploded, raining purple innards across the bridge and leaving naught but pieces of grey shell scattered around the damaged road.

Still sloshing through the crab’s spit, Tony spoke up. His suit was covered in the purple muck. “Messier than expected?”

Thor knew Tony’s words had two meanings. “Nay. Just the outcome I anticipated.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just for reference, whenever I write femme-presenting Loki, I am imagining something close to how she appears in Original Sin: Thor and Loki: The Tenth Realm, bc that is a Look. And also bc Sifskin Loki is gross and bad and also not a true femme-presenting Loki


	9. Chapter 9

It took Loki hours to rid himself of the stench of the disgusting river he pulled himself from. Even now, after what amounted to more than five thorough scrubbings, Loki picked muck out of his hair as he reclined on the plush couch. “Eugh.” Flicking the muck into the air, Loki vaporized it with a snap of his fingers.  A perfume of cinnamon floated from the incense he burned. Smoke curled in serpentine loops towards the artificially heightened ceiling. The midday sun shone in from the magicked windows, blizzard that coated the city having passed days ago, and lit the room in a warm glow. For once, the neighbour's infernally chatty television was silent.

While it was no comparison to his palace chambers, Loki took some pleasure in just how far he had elevated the drab apartment; further even than he had his tower quarters. Yet, surrounding himself in self made luxury could not find him lasting peace of any sort.

Though the bruises he earned from his tussle with the Avengers were already half healed their mere presence inspired his already rebellious body against him further. And Loki didn’t need to hear all of Thor’s proposal to know a bad plan when it stuck him across the face. He’d been burned by enough poorly realized ideas to have that much sense. As usual, he would have to remedy the thoughtless plans of others to save his own skin. If that meant storming Stark Tower to set them straight, then that he would do.

Rising from his lounge, Loki’s lungs scratched and burned, one of his new constants. The taste of blood filled his mouth as he coughed, above the every present sickly sweet, and he grimaced.

Many hours later, filled with planning, more of his constant pains, and the neighbor’s programming reporting on the “sadly under-documented attack,” Loki had to succumb to silent waiting. Moving hurt, so he chose not to. Unfortunately, merely  _ being  _ hurt too and he’d yet to find a proper remedy for that. While his self imposed paralysis freed up his mind it brought forth a deeply unwanted habit from his tormentor.

It had not taken Luke long to notice Loki’s growing paralysis and he had reacted in an unsavory direction. Emboldened, Luke had closed the space between them. It wasn’t the first time Loki had experienced proximity as a weapon. But it sent shivers down his spine nevertheless.

Nothing was more synonymous with the method than The Other, the Titan’s monstrous pet.

The first time Luke found the gall to reach out, a thumb under Loki’s chin to force him to look at the void of Luke’s face, had been the worst. In the brief moment Luke reached forward, he became The Other in Loki’s mind. Fear, long buried, reared its head and lurched Loki’s whole being as he’d flinched backwards to avoid the pain his mind convinced him would surely come from the touch. It was a moment of weakness he loathed and it sent waves of fire through him as if in punishment. He knew Luke had words for the reaction but they had been lost to ringing in Loki’s ears and his pounding heart that screamed for him to flee.

Now it was easier to bury the fear beneath the indisputable; that he was far, far from The Other’s grasp. In replacement was yet more anger, piling against Luke in a wave ready to crash. With every touch, the burning desire to break every bone in Luke’s body, as slowly and meticulously as possible, grew. But Loki knew better than to bite the hand that fed him. That time would come.

“The crustacean was a pleasant surprise, I must admit.” Luke disappeared leftwards behind Loki, his voice circling round. “But you must stop realm hopping. It’s annoying.”

Loki smirked slightly as his stomach boiled. The pressure of Luke’s presence hovered just behind him. “Oh?” He’d already guessed at the limitation of Luke’s gaze. In his prodding he’d all but confirmed Luke relied on technology as his ears. If his gaze could not extend beyond the veil of realms then it was trickable, with enough meddling. Unless, of course, he was being duped himself. “Then you shall be excited to hear my next scheme strikes them far closer to home.”

“Does it now?” Luke leaned in close over Loki’s shoulder. Tendrils of darkness covering his face curled themselves through Loki’s hair. His ragged huffing belayed his age.

Speaking through grit teeth, Loki scarcely breathed. “Another round of twenty questions, it sounds like what you desire?”

A short pause. “Are you up to that?”

“Always.”

“Confident. I like it. Me first.” Luke circled back to face Loki. “Have you been in contact with the Avengers? And we’re keeping it truthful here. It’s only fair.”

Had he been able to, Loki would have laughed. “Do you count attacking them with a rather angry leviathan? Assuming you do, yes.” There was no lie in his words. “My turn,  _ Luke _ . How vast is this organization of yours?”

“It’s an ever expanding portfolio.” There was a hint of a grin in Luke’s voice. “Where did you learn your craft? Since you seem to have an understandably low level of respect for the Masters.”

A new thrill of anger shot through Loki, ignited further by the poison boiling his blood. “My mother. But we shall keep her… uninvolved.”

“Of course. I was merely… curious.”

“I shall lend you a word of advice. That is one subject you should wish to forget entirely. Do not press it further.” Conjuring what menace he could, Loki glared at his tormentor.

“I’ll keep it in mind.” Luke inspected his cufflinks, clearly unphased.

Loki didn’t drop his glare. “Do that. And now; why do you still conceal your face to me?”

This question seemed to take Luke unawares as the man stopped his circling. “You said it yourself: what’s intimidating about some guy named Luke?”

“And the added air of mystery helps? Need I remind you exactly what I am? I--” Flinching as Luke reached forward, fire shot through Loki and he bit his tongue to keep quiet. Hatred boiled within him.

Luke drew back. “No need. I know exactly what you are, Loki.” For the briefest moment Loki swore he saw a white toothed grin flash through the void of smoke.

**00000**

About two hours into a stress induced “ _ How It’s Made _ ” binge, the power shut off, throwing Tony into grey darkness. He stared at the blank screen for a solid few seconds, face illuminated only by what light leaked through the heavy blanket of clouds that had rolled over the city. During those moments the emergency backup kicked in, restoring a select few of his lights. “C’mon, man, don’t mess with Pepper’s baby.” His phone lit up as various members of the team reported to Tony what he already knew. Not picking up, Tony stood and mumbled to himself, “yeah, yeah, I’m working on it.”

Stepping into the elevator, running on the backup, Tony stared up at the dim lighting.

A sickly hot hand clamped across his mouth and Loki hissed into his ear as he struggled, “hold on.”

Tony’s insides twisted and his vision went black. When he could next see, they stood on his balcony. Then they transported again. To the garage. The helipad. The basement floors. They popped in on Thor, who had barely a moment to react. Finally, Loki released Tony in the labs.

Panting, Tony stumbled away. His stomach felt like mush, his entire body buzzed unnaturally, and his head pounding like the worst of his hangovers. “Wha- what the  _ hell  _ was that?!” He turned to face Loki. 

Looking incredibly pale, Loki slumped against one of Tony’s worktables. He seemed to have trouble focusing on Tony and when he spoke his words were quick and slurred ever so slightly. “Threw himoff- thinks we’re on… roof. Illusions. Must get-therest.” Before Tony could protest, Loki waved a hand and vanished. He popped in and out multiple more times, depositing various Avengers, who shared degrees of surprise.

To which Tony had only Loki’s jumbled explanation to share.

Returning last with Sif and Thor, Loki released them. The god stood for a few seconds, opening his mouth. He promptly collapsed onto his hands and knees with a small gasp. Even less coherent, he muttered to himself. “Never…  _ doingthat _ … again-- no thanks…”

Still recovering from his own hangover esque headache, Tony questioned Loki, “how do you know you lost him?”

A distant explosion sounded from high above them. Rising unsteadily to his feet, Loki waved a hand. He still looked nauseous. “Ignore th-that. Not… real. But he thinks it is. I  _ tricked  _ him,” he nearly giggled. “It just cost me… a bit.”

Looking alarmed, Thor’s hand hovered over Loki’s shoulder. “Cost you? Brother, what--”

Loki shook his head, grimacing. “That much teleportation that fast… was I a lesser sorcerer…” Losing focus, Loki stared at the wall. Thor’s touch jolted him out of the stupor as Loki flinched and jumped away. “St-- ah… right… As I was saying, I may be feeling the effects of that little romp for the next few hundred years,” Loki cleared his throat. “But no matter, onto problems of greater import.” He glared at the lot of them. “Such as your half baked scheme to send me into Jotunheim after a bit of blood I already possess.”

Annoyed at Loki’s dismissiveness when his life was on the line, Tony matched his scowl. “You haven’t even heard the whole plan.”

“And yet, I know enough to see it for the foolishness that it is.” Despite his stubborn reply, Loki’s face was haggard. He looked awful and Tony knew it wasn’t just the teleportation bender.

It garnered sympathy from Tony but not enough for him to keep his mouth shut. “Then tell us, wise guy, what do you plan on doing?”

Loki said nothing.

“ _ Nice _ ,” he growled with sarcastic exasperation

Sighing with exasperation, Sif stepped between them. “Cease your bickering.” She pointed to Tony, “the Howardson is correct--”

“ _ Tony _ .”

“-- in his assertions.” Next she pointed to Loki, who watched her silently. “You know better than any of us the strength of the magic that lies in Jotun blood. Because--”

Suddenly bristling, Loki snapped at her, “you make assumptions that--”

She rolled her eyes. A move powerful enough to temporarily render Loki speechless. “Because you are more  _ learned  _ than the rest of us, Loki. No other reason.” She sighed again as he remained silent. “Could their blood be the key or not?”

Tapping his fingers against his thigh to a rhythm Tony swore was the Bee Gees, Loki finally spoke. “They do have some inherent magic in their blood that keeps them shielded from poisons. Or… at least allows them to purge toxins at a far accelerated pace. Not much is known on their biology, unsurprisingly.” Loki rattled the words off mechanically. He looked detached, like someone speaking about the death of a distant relative they’d never met.

Ever the scientist, Bruce didn’t miss a beat in pushing Loki further on the subject. “So it would be like a pseudo-steroid shot, then?”

Loki and the Asgardians looked baffled. “What, pray tell, does that mean?”

“Nevermind,” Bruce smiled slightly. “It would just be a buff to your immune system. Point is, there’s a way out.”

Still tapping the rhythm, Loki nodded. “In theory that magic would stick around.  _ In theory _ .”

Tony glanced between Loki and Bruce. “It might take us…” Calculating in his head, Tony paused. “Probably two days, at the most, to make a syringe capable of withstanding that kind of cold.” He saw Loki scowl. “Unless you’re gonna argue with us some more.”

“I simply…” Loki glanced down to his hands. “I want this done with. If your farfetched plan is all the mighty Avengers can drum up, then I shall play along. And I do not have further time to argue. Your body burning itself to ash from within puts some petty squabbles in perspective.”

Natasha raised her eyebrows. “You were just arguing--”

“I said  _ some _ , Romanoff.” A strained smirk lit Loki’s face. He held out his hands cleared his throat, taking a defensive stance. “Now, I shall move this phantom fight to us. We will have precious few seconds to replace the shades before he catches up.” He nodded to Bruce. “Elevator, Banner. You’re elsewhere in my version of events.” Once Bruce fled, Loki took a deep breath and green energy sprung to his fingertips. He grinned viciously. “You all channel that inner desire to punch me in the face; I know you’ve got it. We’re making this as believable as possible, after all.” Slashing a hand upwards, the energy burst from Loki’s fingers.

Suddenly images of them flickered into place. Jumping into his own image and adapting the pose, arms crossed in front of his face, Tony felt the energy of the illusion squirming in his guts. Then the scene sprung to action.

Natasha fired off a few rounds from a pistol she pulled from under her jacket. Loki easily blocked them with a forcefield but seconds later Sif hooked him with a long rope of wires that had been resting on a table. She jerked him back, wires fraying as Loki staggered. “Thor!”

Lightning arced to the wires as Thor lit up the room. Both Sif and Loki grimaced and their armor sparked. Electricity hummed in the air. Loki snapped the expensive wires, releasing the lightning in a corona of energy and light.

Tony shielded his eyes from the spectacle. He ducked behind a table, shouting at the gods who proceeded to wreck his lab. “If you don’t stop breaking my things--” He flinched as Steve leapt over the table to join him. “I’ll make all three of you do a benefit car wash and tell the whole state of New York!” A screw flew past his face. “Swimsuits mandatory!” He could barely hear himself over the mess of the gods.

Thor landed next to Tony. Despite not taking his eyes off the fight, he spoke in a calm voice. “He needs a way out but his body cannot sustain any more teleportation.”

“Uh-huh, and what’s your swimsuit size?”

The blonde god threw him an annoyed look. “Now is not the time for your jokes, Stark.”

Tony ducked as Thor ricocheted Mjolnir around the room. “Fine. Just blast him out the window, I don’t know what you want from me.” From across the room, Loki jumped high in the air to avoid a slash from Sif. An idea burst to mind and Tony marvelled at his own ingenuity. “Actually, do blast him out the window.” Thor glared at him skeptically but Tony continued, “you guys can get some serious air. The right push and he could probably make it to the nearest rooftop. Might be a bit of a rough landing but--” Tony flinched as Sif smashed a table and its delicate contents scattered. “But that’s how you guys roll.”

Dipping his head, Thor seemed to consider Tony’s plan. It definitely wasn’t one of his best. A longshot by far. But Thor smirked. “Aye. That we do.” Thor bound up and rushed Loki. He held his hammer out in front of him. “Brother!”

Backed against the window, Loki jumped just as Thor’s hammer would have hit him. For a split second, Tony saw Loki land atop Mjolnir with one foot. Tony barked a laugh in amazement. Then the plate windows shattered from Thor’s blow. Loki launched into the air, flipping and disappearing into the fog.

Still astonished, Tony stood and stared, open mouthed, at the shattered window. “I can’t believe that  _ worked _ .” The wind whirled past. “I’m a  _ goddamn  _ genius.”

Climbing out from behind another overturned desk, Clint looked equally stunned. “I was in the circus and that's still the most physics defying bullshit I’ve ever seen.”

Not turning around, Thor gazed out at the foggy city. His hair whipped in the wind. “Thank you. But the day we wash our hands of this shall be the day I can appreciate your compliments.”


	10. Chapter 10

An end in sight, even one he didn’t like, Loki watched the next days pass with agonizing lethargy. Every minute seemed to last an eternity. Each pain now reminded him that there was a solution, as ugly as it was. It was endlessly frustrating.

In an attempt to distract himself from the frustration, Loki took to wandering the streets of the city; something that he often did in Asgard, to great effect. But each walk forced him to question why so many Midgardians seemed to covet the city. It was rank, filthy, overcrowded, any infrastructure not a sparkling skyscraper was crumbling in some way. A city full of rude denizens, Loki’s discourteous upstairs neighbor being only one example, and gaping tourists ready to sell their very soul to set eye upon the only so impressive sights. That he had once sought to set it as a throne to rule upon would have sent him into hysterics had the action not furthered his aches.

Slipping into a guise, despite the discomfort caused now was no time to be recognized, Loki stepped into the same cafe where her suffering had originated. Emptying as the lunch rush faded away, Loki watched its workers rush about, cleaning tables, looking generally exhausted.

The same bubblegum pink haired server approached Loki at a table and eyed her. “Little late for you, isn’t it?”

Loki knew what she meant, currently sporting an approximation of a business woman. And, though luxury hadn’t cured her woes, fine jewelry and finer clothes never hurt. She grinned wolfishly up at the server. “Had I ever done an honesty day of work in my life, it would be.”

“What’r ya, a lawyer?”

“Eh,” Loki shrugged. “Close enough, I surmise.”

The girl raised an eyebrow. “Okay… Anyway, what can I get ya?”

Slightly disappointed in her unwillingness to play along, Loki’s smile flickered. “Just a coffee then, iced, black.” Loki saw her surprise again, outside people rushed past, bundled for warmth.

“You’re sure, no cream or sugar?”

Sickly sweetness upon her tongue, Loki wrinkled her nose. “Verily.”

“Wha--” 

Scarcely moments after the waitress frowned, a suited man bustled past her and took a seat opposite Loki. “Sorry, I’m late.” He brushed snow from his close cropped brown hair and straightened a sickeningly familiar suit. He smiled disarmingly at the waitress. “An iced mocha, please.”

Loki stared, agape. Part of her sung with joy. Another was horrified. Yet another suspicious. But, finally, her tormentor had slipped up. And Loki had been given a noose to slip around Luke’s arrogant neck.

Their server frowned deeper as she moved away, giving Luke a suspicious look.

Leaning forward, Loki kept her pleasure under control. “This is a long time coming.” Loki drank in every feature of her tormentor’s face, certain that if she looked away the opportunity set in front of her would vanish. The smallish nose, watery blue eyes, hard lines in the face. This was a middle aged man past his prime, as utterly unremarkable as his bland suit had suggested upon first meeting. But the face offered no clearings of the rustled cobwebs of Loki’s mind though the voice did.

“Isn’t it? I’m surprised to see you out and in… such a form.”

Loki glanced down at herself. “I feel there's an applicable Midgardian phrase here. But I cannot, for the life of me, remember it.” She cocked her head. “Did you know that you are stunningly mediocre to observe?”

“Luckily I’ve got you, then.” The light behind Luke’s eyes was one Loki recognized. This was a man fully confident in his actions and loving every second. It was also the look of a man ripe to be torn forcibly from that almighty throne. “You know, Loki-- should I call you that?”

“I do go by many names but simply because I take a different form does not mean they change,  _ Luke _ .”

There was false warmth in his smile. “Certainly not, then, Loki, I always admired your worth ethic.” Something in Luke’s expression shifted, excitement leaked through that wasn’t there before, seeping past even the predatory glint in his eyes. “So ready to amaze and horrify. It was clear you took some real pride in your craft.”

“As much as I adore compliments, where is this leading?” All she needed to do was reach out and grab Luke and it could all be over. But she doubted he’d let that touch happen so easily.

Luke gazed intently at Loki, that excitement only barely smothered. “When h-- I first implemented that toxin, seeing you up close was a real treat. A non human using magic more than what the Masters taught. An artist in the craft more than any other I’d seen.”

“Was it now…” Loki quashed a frown. The smallest of doubts wormed through her head.  _ This was too easy. _

Their server returned, toting two drinks. She caught Loki’s frown and continued to throw Luke suspicious glances as she handed Loki’s drink. The two of them made brief eye contact as they brushed fingers. Nodding ever so slightly in Luke’s direction, Loki tapped her fingers against the drink. The waitress smirked. “Here you go,  _ sir _ .” She reached out and just before Luke took the drink, crushed the plastic cup in her hand. The coffee sprayed directly in Luke’s face, leaving him sputtering. 

Grinning victoriously, Loki lunged across the table. “ _ This _ is the moment I’ve longed for!” She grabbed him by the neck and, as the server backed away in confusion, the two of them vanished.

They reappeared in one of the many labs of Stark Tower. Throwing Luke down headfirst, Loki saw the shock in his eyes fade as he was knocked unconscious. Moments later, Loki coughed back the need to retch. The after effects of her unadvised teleportation spree taking hold. Glaring down at the man, Loki hissed, “never again.  _ Never. Again. _ ” 

The lab was deserted. Unwilling to put Luke from her sight, Loki spoke into the empty room. “Jarvis, tell the lot to hurry. I have something they may want to see. And have Romanoff bring those magic repressing cuffs I know she hides in her closet.”

“It will be done and… welcome back, ma’am.”

The haste with which the team assembled before Loki was a pleasant surprise. Even if Tony was still in his sleeping clothes. Loki shot them a tight smile, hand still at Luke’s throat. “Hello, hello! Those cuffs, if you would.”

Natasha tossed them, which Loki caught easily and snapped around Luke’s wrists. “How’d you know I have those?”

Glancing around, Loki saw Bruce holding a large syringe but ignored it for the time being as she spotted a broken stool and motioned towards it. “Would you like a nice little white lie or for me to ignore that question? Stark, give me that.”

As Natasha scoffed, Tony walked the broken stool over to Loki. “You doing okay, man?” There was a note of genuine concern in his voice.

“Spectacular.” Taking the stool, Loki snapped off one of its legs with a swift movement. Inspecting the metal rod, Loki smirked. “Unless you mean physically. Lacking a bit there with the poison blood and such.” Hefting Luke up with one hand, Loki continued to grin as she walked to the close wall.

Behind her, Tony spoke. “Uh… what’re you doing?” Again, his concern was clear.

It was a touching sentiment.

Loki drove the impromptu metal stake into the wall as the team exclaimed. Admiring her handiwork, Loki dropped Luke cuff first onto the thing. She smiled viciously as he dangled. “Now!” Spinning on heel, Loki faced the team. Most of them still stared at the hanging Luke. Sighing, Loki clapped her hands, shape-shifting as he did. His blood boiled in response. “I am  _ literally  _ dying every moment we delay.” His transformation at least seemed to jolt them back.

Thor frowned at him. “Do not jest on such matters, brother.”

“Pah, I know you like a bit of gallows humor as much as the rest of us.”

“Not when those gallows are quite so close.”

Loki waved off Thor’s concern, though fear of his own gnawed at his thoughts.  _ Sentiment _ , hissed the Titan’s echo. Determinedly smothering it, Loki snatched the large syringe Bruce held and lifted it up to the light. “This? Seems a tad… unimpressive.”

He saw Tony bristle. “It’ll get the job done.”

Eager to shake off his own doubts as well as the somber mood that clouded the room, Loki grabbed for the opportunity laid out in front of him. He winked at Tony. “That’s what they all say.”

“Ugh!” Tony exclaimed with frustration as Natasha snorted and Thor sighed. “I can’t believe I missed you.” Crossing his arms, Tony blushed slightly.

As if reminding him what was at stake, a dull ache rebounded through Loki’s body. He kept his grin smug. “I should depart before this gets sickeningly heartfelt.” Momentarily, he glanced at the unconscious body of Luke. “Should he awake before I return, ensure that he remains just where he is. And should I not return…” Again he smothered his doubts. “Well, that certainly shall not come to pass. Forget I said anything.” Drinking in the sight of them for another moment, Loki tore himself away reluctantly and turned his back on them. Focusing on a far off rift, located deep among snowy mountains, Loki disappeared from the labs.

**00000**

Waiting proved to be a strange kind of limbo. Though Thor and Sif assured them wholeheartedly that Loki could take on a Frost Giant or two by himself. The sense of helplessness only made the team antsy. Tony passed the time by joining the game Natasha and Clint played as they tossed crumpled bits of paper at the unconscious man hanging from their wall.

Five points for the limbs. Seven for the torso. Ten for the heart. Fifteen for the head. Thirty for right between the eyes. After Clint hit a five time streak at the temple, Tony forfeited out of sheer annoyance. He resigned himself to watching the game with Bruce.

“You really think that’s the guy?” As Clint hit yet another bullseye, Tony inspected the man. He was so ordinary. Everything from his cheap suit to his haircut.

Bruce sighed. “I hope so or we’ll have the lawsuit of a lifetime on our hands. I can see the headlines now.” Smiling, he donned a reporter’s tone.  _ “Avengers kidnap and torment random civilian. S.H.I.E.L.D. director’s comment: I told those dumbasses Loki was bad news.” _

“Speaking of Fury…” Tony looked over to the two agents. “Why haven’t you told the big boss about this yet?”

Biting her lip, Natasha lined up a shot, “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Nothing’s happened.” She grinned as she hit his temple. Clint stepped up and she turned to Tony. “Because if something had happened and we told Fury, he’d surely make us take the suspect in.” Clint scored another headshot and she sighed, “damn… Anyway, if that theoretically happened, a certain norse god wouldn’t get revenge and I don’t think he’d be too happy about that.” Her smirk was sly. “So, there’s clearly nothing weird about today and I’m sure I’d know if there was.”

Tony stared, nonplussed, as she went back to her game. “You’re either devious as hell or actually a big softie. I can’t tell which.”

“I can respect good, old fashioned, revenge.”

“You terrify me.”

Natasha’s grin widened as Clint’s streak broke. “Water is wet. The sky’s blue. Tony Stark overcompensates.”

“Hey, unwarranted!” Affronted, Tony left the agents to their game. He migrated towards the muscle of the team, all of whom sat together. “You guys looks like some weird workout clique.”

Steve turned to him. “I’m choosing to take that as a complement.” 

Beside him, Sif and Thor nodded. “Do not mock so, Stark. You should take pride in--”

The sound of a clattering chair and Loki appearance cut Thor off. Doubling over Loki looked seconds away from vomiting. His hair was windswept and so thoroughly inundated with snow that it gave him a salt and pepper look. His armor was covered in splotches of blue-black blood, concentrated heavily around his gloved hands. Straightening up, Loki blew some of the hair from his face and held out the vial, now filled totally with dark blood. “Never ask me to do anything like that again,” he said, still sounding nauseous.

Tony reached for the vial.

“Carefully, it’s--” As his fingers touched the syringe, Tony felt frost creep up his hand, instantly chilling him to the bone. Yelping, he drew back and cradled his hand. “Cold,” Loki finished, deadpan.

Frowning at his hand, Tony muttered. “You’re not kidding. I think you’ll have to be the one to do the honors.” He paused, actually thinking about what that meant. “This probably isn’t medically sound…” Though Loki’s expression didn’t change, Tony saw him tense up and mutter something under his breath. “What?” Still, Loki’s face was blank. “The hard part’s over,” Tony said, though he knew why Loki hesitated. There wasn’t any other option, either Loki would get over his problem, or he’d die. And Tony wasn’t about to accept the second option.

Thor spoke. “He’s right, brother.”

“I know that,” Loki snapped at Thor. “Merely… give me a moment.”

“The longer you delay--”

“ _ I know _ ! You think I cannot feel my blood boiling within my veins? As it has for days now! Endlessly! And you think this will not hurt?” Glaring at Thor, Loki tore off the overcoat he wore and ripped his sleeve, exposing some of his arm. He raised the syringe, it shook in his hand. Loki took a deep breath and as Tony and the rest of the team watched, he drove the needle of the syringe into the crook of his arm. “Because it will!” He drained the blood and threw the empty vial across the room, where it shattered next to the unconscious man. Loki dropped into a chair and drew his knees up to his chest, staring his arm. A blue hue crept from where the vial had been. “No, no,” Loki’s voice took a feverous horror, “no, no, no, n--”

The lights flickered. A wave of invisible force hit Tony in the chest and he staggered. It felt like he’d just been punched by Cap. The rest of the team acted similarly.

In his chair, Loki’s eyes went wide. He grabbed for the metal arms of the chair, which crumpled beneath his grip. A low hiss escaped his lips. The blue hue continued to spread, now encompassing all of his exposed arm.

Thor laid a hand on Loki’s shoulder. “Brother, we’re here.”

“Oh,” Loki snarled, “I’m saved!” His voice was strained. His skin not yet blue was a sickly pale white. His eyes glistened with pain. He quaked like a caged animal.

Looking to Tony, Thor silently mouthed:  _ help _ .

Tony grimaced. There was a reason he prefered working with machines over people. When they were broken you didn’t have to say anything to fix them. “Hey, uh, I know this sucks but…” He tugged at his t-shirt.  _ What would appease the god? _ “If you make it through this I’ll--”

“You’ll give me full reign over your information database for a day?” Blue crept up Loki’s neck. Even though he looked no less pained, his hands still continued to turn the metal chair to scrap, Loki managed a rough smirk.

“Abso-goddamn-lutely not.”

Loki’s laugh was short and insincere, bordering on manic. One eye tinged red as his skin continued to dye. Releasing his death grip from the chair, Loki put his head in his hands. His mutterings were muffled and in an alien tongue.

Though Tony couldn’t understand Loki’s mumblings, both Thor and Sif reacted with matching frowns. Thor knelt down beside Loki. “You are misguided.  _ What  _ you are does not define  _ who  _ you are. You could very well be a talking tree and I would still count you one thing: my brother.”

“The monster.” Loki’s voice was faint.

“N-no--”

“Yes. Yes, Thor. That’s my station. The role I was born into, the role I affirmed by my actions.” Looking up, Loki glared at Thor. “All  _ this  _ does--” He practically spat the words, pointing to his face, “is remind me of that fact. I can’t escape the part I play.”

Remembering Hel’s ramble about story, Tony snapped without thinking. “That’s bullshit and you know it. You talk big about ‘the story of the gods’ or whatever, but you’re on Earth now, idiot. You don’t have to go by god rules, and when have you ever?” All three gods stared at him, looking slightly offended. “Maybe I’ve got to be the goddamn hippy here but, out with the old and in with the new. You want to change, then do it. Stop complaining about how you can’t.”

“You are so human, Anthony. Your faith is--”

“Don’t patronize me,” Tony said, poking a finger at Loki who still sat curled on his chair. Tony could feel the cold radiating around the room. “Why can’t you just be… Loki?”

The red began to drain from Loki’s eyes, though he seemed not to notice as he stared at Tony. “What does that even entail?”

Tony shrugged, “I don’t know. Whatever you want it to mean.” 

“You make it sound so simple,” Loki laughed slightly, clearly bewildered. He glanced down at his arms as they returned to their pale hue.

“Maybe because it is.”

From across the room, the formerly unconscious man cleared his throat. “Look, this is a nice journey of self discovery but I’ve got a message to deliver so…” His voice had the faintest of southern accents.

Loki shot up, untangling himself from his seat in an instant. “You’re not Luke.” He sounded more resigned than surprised.

Creeping unease set in as Tony and the team looked between the two.

The man in cuffs tilted his head. “Well, I am Luke. That’s my name. Not the one you wanted though. But that Luke was here, he actually just left.”

“He spoke through you. I had my suspicions but I hoped…” Loki’s exhaustion overcame any anger. Though Tony was plenty angry for him. As Loki approached the man he shook his head. “You sacrificed your life for a cheap joke?”

“And for the chance to meet you. Big fan. Admit it, it’s kinda funny.” The man grinned. 

“I’m the God of Mischief not a… jester,” Loki growled. “Senseless cheap jokes do not count as mischief.”

“He thought you’d say something like that.”

The team closed in behind Loki, who stared down the man hanging on the wall. “You know I am going to kill you.” It wasn’t a threat or a question. He said it without batting an eye.

The man barely hesitated, “I’d rather be killed by you than by this thing in my brain.” He continued as Loki frowned silently. “Terminal diagnosis. Thought, what the hell--”

Angry, Tony cut him off. “Dying doesn’t mean you have free reign to do awful things just because you won’t be around to deal with the consequences!”

“Well, actually that’s exactly what it means.”

Loki waved off Tony’s outrage and glared at the man. “I care not about you. What was Luke’s message?”

“Right, yeah.” Staring at Loki, the man cleared his throat again. “He thanks you for not immediately killing me. And that you’re making a great return investment, that you passed the test. He pinky promises to stop watching you; said he didn’t need to anymore. Oh, and that he’ll be in touch. Have a nice time while you can.”

Tony watched Loki absorb the threat. He dipped his head, a shadow passing over his eyes. “That’s it? He’s done playing after all that?” Not changing his tone in the slightest, Loki grabbed the man by the neck. Tony started forward hesitantly.

“It’s been a pleasure working with you. Again, big fan.” The man’s eyes bulged.

“You didn’t work with me, you did nothing but serve as an expandable messenger.”

“I sorta--” Loki released him. “-- did. Why’d you stop?”

Loki turned his back on the man. “Because I’m not going to kill you.”

“Wha-auf!” The messenger choked on his tongue as his eyes bulged again.

Stricken with the urge to look away, Tony watched Loki. The god’s expression never faltered even as the sickening sound of snapping bones filled the room.

“Not with my bare hands. I’m not--” Gurgling interrupted him. “A barbarian.”

The air around them hissed and when Tony finally forced himself to look back, the cuffs dangled, empty, from the wall, as if nothing had ever filled them. Tony’s stomach turned. “You gave him what he wanted.”

“Yes, good for him.” Loki ran a hand through his hair. “Now, if you’ll excuse me; I need a nap.”


	11. Chapter 11

It took Loki nearly three days to rise from his restless but shockingly nightmareless sleep. He couldn’t be sure what combination of stressors had left him in a near coma, but finally, he shook them off. Immediately he set about repairing his damages, cleansing the sailors of their madness affliction, returning the cargo of the ship he stole away, promising he hadn’t peeked _ ; a lie, he had, bits and bobs for some helicarriers, something about Insight, he was unsure why it was so secretive _ , and offering Sif a return to Asgard.

She had declined. “I wish to see this through. Though I am sworn to Asgard and this is a Midgardian matter, I cannot shake the feeling that this has its roots closer to our home. And I would like to meet the man capable of duping you, I must admit.”

“At least you’re honest,” he’d groaned. Sif’s pledge to stay was met with resounding enthusiasm. She had already proven her skills many times over and was the only one who had centuries of Thor’s unwavering trust.

Loki told himself to not be bitter about it.

He’d barely finished cleaning his many and costly messes before Thor cornered him. Thor had been giving him annoyingly sad eyes since not-Luke had died. A confrontation did little to surprise and more to tire.

“Brother, what I said to you when--”

Loki held up a hand. “Forget it. I have.”  _ A lie _ . “You were not yourself.”

Unsurprisingly, Thor was not ready to leave well enough alone. “No. That makes it no better. Poisoned by spells or no, those words were exactly what I knew would cut deep.”

“You’re right. They sounded like something I would have said. Like things I have said. Drop it, Thor. Move on, isn’t that the new motto?”

Though he swept up every problem of his own making, Loki still found little but discontent. He doubted he’d see a good night’s sleep until Luke made his next move. What fascinated Sif did the same to Loki. He’d been so sure he understood Luke. The man was odd, but Loki could predict odd. Even strangeness had its patterns. It frustrated Loki to no end that he could find nothing on Luke. He had so entirely dropped off the map that Loki couldn’t even sense traces of his magic where’d he’d been with Loki, only Loki’s own.

“Hey, Earth to Loki?” Clint waved a hand in front of Loki’s face, bringing him back from his musings.

The team sat in a circle of couches. A cozy kind of darkness filled the room. The credits of a movie Loki had only half watched scrolled on the television. Bruce, who sat on his left, snored slightly. Thor looked ready to follow suit.

Clint held up a second movie case. “You vote for the sequel or something else. The sequel is definitely better than-”

Next to Clint, Natasha boo’d. “No. The first one is better. Clint’s psychotic.”

“What?!  _ Aliens _ is so much better!”

“ _ Alien _ is pretty much perfect. And way technically scarier.”

Steve ejected the dvd and stood. “They’re practically different genres. It’s hard to compare them, in my humble opinion they’re both great.” He smiled as Clint and Natasha both frowned, even Tony who had remained silent, laughed in surprise. “I’ve seen them. I was frozen for seventy years but I’ve caught up that far at least. I say we watch  _ Aliens _ .”

They turned to Loki, who rolled his eyes and shrugged. “Do as you wish. I am heading to my quarters before I go the way of,” he nodded towards Bruce.

The team murmured goodbyes and goodnights as Loki took his leave. Tony shifted as if to protest but said nothing.

Collapsing onto his bed, Loki looked up to the tapestry above his head. “Good to see you too.”

Jormungandr’s dark eyes glittered. A low hiss sounded.

“I know that mortal attempted to speak with you. Thank you for not destroying him. He’s a genius of little brain.” Loki searched the tapestry. “Hel, why did you tell him what you did?”

A shadow shifted in the woven trees. “ _ He was ready. _ ”

“Most gods are never ready,” Loki arched an eyebrow.

“ _ And Midgardians are not gods, father _ .”

Loki smirked, “touche.” A beat of silence. If anyone could answer his question, it would be the keeper of the dead. “Who is Luke?”

It took many long moments for Hel to respond. “ _ I know not. I can sense his life but cannot see it. He had undoubtedly shielded himself from my sight. Though no magic I know can do such things, not to me. _ ”

“What? How is that even possible, then?” It seemed Loki understood his foe less and less the more he learned.

“ _ Something… _ ” Hel sounded confused. An unusual expression from her. “ _ Something about him feels familiar but I cannot pinpoint it. _ ”

Loki frowned. Concern was not in her nature and that she displayed it sat strange on his shoulders. “Let me know should he slip up.”

A knock sounded at Loki’s door and Tony’s voice floated in. “Hey, you in snoozeville yet?”

“Never heard of such a place.” Putting aside his worries, Loki pulled a smile as the door slid open.

Tony leaned against the doorframe, silhouetted from the light of the hallway. “I’ll believe that one. You might lie but the bags under your eyes sure don’t.”

“Traitors,” he scoffed. Sitting up, Loki snapped and floating lights popped into being. “What brings you to mine humble dwellings?”

“Humble isn’t the word I’d use but…” Tony sighed. “You know we’re gonna nail this guy eventually, right? He won’t get the chance to do something like this again.”

“I hold out that hope, yes.”

“I like the sound of that, Loki, god of morbid optimism.”

“Just Loki.”

A short laugh escaped Tony, he smiled. “Just Loki? And what does that mean?”

It wasn’t a real question but Loki answered nevertheless, grinning without thought. “I have no idea. Isn’t that exciting?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may have noticed that I didn't answer the big question of who Luke is (though if you put it together than I did my job, and if you didn't I also did my job. Either way I'd love to hear speculations.) Thing is, I will be answering that question in this story's sequel: ...And Bloody Endings, which I'm slowly working on wrapping up. I've actually been sitting on this story for months, partially because I didn't want to leave the thread hanging too long and partially bc of lack of feedback. I mean this seriously, comments are lifesavers, they're a very real show that actual people read and enjoy the work. PSA over. Hoped you like the story, I've got its sequel to work on.


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